


The Magician

by RhinoMouse



Series: Muggle Magic Tricks [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellarke is our brotp, Clexa sorta happens, Corruption, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Just everyone there is no way we're remembering all of them, Magical Oaths, Magical politics will make sense damn it, Multi, Non-violent protest, Revolution, Slavery via magical oaths, Wizengamot, is it really murder if they are technically still alive?, like so slow burn it's not even funny, lots of politics, magical theory, pranks turned political tools of rebellion, references to muggle magic, references to the White Rose Society, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-09-18 10:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9381413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhinoMouse/pseuds/RhinoMouse
Summary: The story begun in The Magicians Assistant continues as the rebellion against the unjust magical government begins to expand beyond the walls Hogwarts.  Lexa in her duties as an auror deals with the ensuing chaos.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! We're back with the sequel! So for anyone who has not read the first in the series we have a summary for you below. We're not positive but we think new readers should be able to pick up from this one without having read The Magician's Assistant. For returning readers yes Lexa is in the chapter cycle as one of the three points of view. From this point on she's one of our three leads so no more waiting for her to pop up. Warning though it is going to take a while for her to really start interacting with either Clarke or Bellamy. Again I mean technically we have ships but...this is more a general fiction. For those who don't ship Clexa this should still be something you'll be ok with. We both love Bellamy and he's one of our three protagonists. 
> 
> Important things for new readers: Each chapter will be from either Clarke, Bellamy, or Lexa's point of view. This fic barely has anything romantic in it at all. We try to update around once a week but we fail at keeping a schedule. We would love to answer any questions you may have in the comments. 
> 
> Additionally thanks to Elephant our incredibly helpful beta/editor who helps us out with this one.

An excerpt from “The Magician’s Rebellion: An Unpublished History and Biography of the RAMS Rebellion and the Political Battle that Shook Magical Britain” by Bellamy Blake

The details surrounding the RAMS rebellion and the political upheaval that reshaped magical Britain have been a topic of great debate for many years. The truth behind the historic occurrences that rocked magical Britain is far more complicated than anyone outside of those sworn to secrecy know. Before I continue, I would like to note that though I know this work can never be published while any who took the oath of Hera to guarantee loyalty to the rebellion are still alive; I believe that it is important that there be a recording of how events actually transpired. As a historian, it is my hope that someday a faithful and unvarnished record of how events actually transpired can be presented. For now, however it is simply the recollections of an old man.

My years at Hogwarts as a student were a time of much turmoil in Magical Britain. Wells Jaha was killed at the age of sixteen by a muggleborn named Charlotte during the spring of 1998. Prejudice and systematic abuse of muggleborns, squibs, magical creatures, and to a lesser extent half-bloods was at an all-time high with discriminatory laws being passed in the wake of the tragedy. Resentment and rage was building in the lower class and an eventual boiling over was inevitable. It seemed that the death of Minister of Magic candidate Jacob Griffin six years earlier had not only ended the hope of a peaceful transition to a more equal society but also meant a return to a system set on shrinking the rights of some of its magical citizens. It was a system ripe for revolt. If not for the brutal and utter destruction of the Trikru rebellion years earlier, fear would have been unable to keep the people cowed.

It was during this time that the seeds of rebellion took root. Over the years, there have been many questions about how the RAMS rebellion began. In the fall of 1998, after a summer full of rushed legal changes to restrict the ‘lesser’ bloods, I wished to make someone pay. The bullying at Hogwarts was out of control and as a young boy turning into a man I aimed my rage and helplessness at the closest target. Looking back, it was remarkably foolish of me but my friends and I in Gryffindor decided to prank the bullies and fight back against them. The problem was that our pranks were vindictive and indiscriminate of target. They not only failed to deter the bullying but actually increased the viciousness of the bullies as they retaliated. It was in this chaos that I first interacted with Clarke Griffin properly.

Now I’m sure you’ve read a great deal about Lady Griffin and her many political exploits and influence on modern quidditch. However, when I met her, she was the symbol of a system I hated and I was sure she was just another pampered princess. She was a pureblood, head girl, Slytherin, wealthy, and part of the most elite of the social elite. Clarke approached me and an uneasy alliance was formed despite my assumptions. She would use her position to pass along information and oversee detentions to mitigate the repercussions our actions, if we agreed to go to her for approval of our pranks. Overall her assistance led to our actions being effective and more organized.

The alliance did not become a true partnership until tragedy and desperation acted as a crucible. One of the most powerful and prolific forces for prejudice in the school at the time was Professor Shumway, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. On a night that would change school children into rebels against an unjust system, Shumway decided to pull one of his usual tricks. He approached a young student intent on getting them into detention with him. A detention where he was known to use harsh punishments unfit for children. My sister, Octavia, got in his way and received the detention instead. Atom Jones witnessed the events and rushed to inform me that Shumway had my sister. Knowing from personal experience that Shumway had been giving progressively harsher detentions to those he suspected to be involved in the counter-offensive against bullying, I raced with a group of my friends to interrupt the detention. There was no plan, only a panicked determination to save my sister.

We blew open the door to Shumway’s classroom. The crash of the door interrupted Shumway forcing Octavia to write lines with a blood quill. Shumway responded with deadly force to the interruption casting a wasting curse that hit Atom. I returned fire with an over-powered banishing charm. Shumway died upon impacting the wall and with Atom was dying of a deadly curse that none of us knew how to counter we were paralyzed. That was when Clarke arrived, having been summoned by Zoe Monroe, who had realized she might be needed and gone for her instead of joining our foolhardy rush.

Griffin quickly realized that there was nothing that could be done for Atom and eased his passing. With two people dead, it was clear that we would be lucky if any of us escaped Azkaban. Clarke took control of the shocked group. She came up with a plan and instructed us about how to take care of the bodies and told us she would take care of things with Headmistress Sydney. In a daring move, Clarke blackmailed the headmistress, Diana Sydney, into making an unbreakable oath to her that forced her to help us to hide the deaths of Atom and Shumway.

This tragedy and crossroads in our lives is what brought Clarke and I together into a true partnership. Together with those involved, we decided that playing pranks against bullies at school was not enough. We could either remain children pulling pranks, wading in the shallows, or work to expand our efforts and effect a broader change. We decided that we needed to change magical Britain as a whole. We would not let Atom’s death be in vain. To ensure the loyalty of those involved and prevent betrayal, all the members of the new rebellion agreed to swear an oath of Hera. An oath which sacrificed a portion of our free will so we could never betray the cause or each other. We began to plan a true revolt against the government now that we were united to a common goal.

Knowing that changing things inside the school was the first step in changing the rest of magical Britain, we stepped up our efforts to prevent bullying and started recruiting within the school. Using her influence with Sydney, Clarke set-up a tutoring system. She hoped the tutoring system would allow tutors to mentor younger students and mitigate the power of the teachers. Mentors would have the power to assign points and oversee detentions in the place of teachers. Thus reducing the power teachers had to bully their students. There would never be another Shumway at Hogwarts. It also provided them with an avenue for training our members in the more advanced magic and methods they would need as rebels.

Over Christmas break, Clarke, having come of age and taken the requisite NEWTS, took control of her family seat on the Wizengamot. Instead of joining one of the established parties, Clarke created a new party of her own called the Latrocinium in a move that shocked the political world.

The plan was two-fold. 1) The RAMS (Respect for All Magical Sentients) Rebellion, led by me, would undermine the social acceptance of the status quo by engaging in well targeted pranks highlighting the injustices of the current system. This would undercut the political approval the current parties enjoy. 2) The Latrocinium political party established by Clarke would begin changing laws and gaining control of the Wizengamot. 

Clarke, who always loved a good analogy, said the RAMS Rebellion would serve the role of The Magician whose distraction and sleight-of-hand would provide cover for The Magician’s Assistant, the Latrocinium party, to slyly pull off the heart of The Trick. I guess that makes me The Magician.

Not everyone was happy with the changes occurring in the school however. Dax Trip had been close to Shumway and would have become the man’s apprentice after graduation. He was also head boy and a horrid bully. With Shumway gone Dax refused to accept both his absence and the changes that were becoming widespread throughout the school at that time. The stress and what I believe was grief pushed him into drastic action. He was convinced that both myself and Clarke had something to do with Shumway’s disappearance. He ambushed me outside of Charms and after stunning me intended to interrogate me for answers. Clarke found me before he could seriously cause harm and a battle occurred. During the fight, Dax was killed. 

We knew of course that as the son of a squib prostitute that I would be pinned for the death regardless of the fact I had neither started it nor cast the final blow. Clarke came up with a cover story that would lead the aurors and those in power to want to cover up the events while also making my involvement seem accidental. Among the aurors summoned who investigated the case was Lexa Trikru. We didn’t know at the time but she noticed several inconsistencies in our stories and the evidence. Still, due to the political pressure of her superiors she kept her suspicions to herself and investigated on her own time. 

With the death of Dax, we knew we couldn’t isolate our actions to the school any longer. It was time to advance our plans. We began to do this by recruiting people who weren’t fellow school children. Though we had already recruited the squib Murphy to help us in the black market, we also needed influence in the political world. So, we recruited Clarke’s godmother, Callie Cartwig of the Purist political party and she took the oath. Students made up almost the entirety of our rebellion at this point. So it made sense to recruit among the teachers. Professor Miller our new Defense professor and Healer Jackson our school healer were valuable converts to the cause. We had about reached the limits of what we could accomplish while underground. It was time for us to act publicly. With this in mind, we staged the now famous interruption of Minister Jaha’s address. We hoped to gain a foothold in the wider world and an air of legitimacy we did not have before that would help us recruit adults. So, in the late winter of 1999 we gave the call to action to magical Britain and declared a non-violent war on the system and government of our time.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Bellamy Blake, seventh year Gryffindor, quite the handsome stud (if he did say so himself), rebellion leader, and, right this second a coward in the face of a raised eyebrow on the face of Clarke Griffin. Self-consciously he attempted to straighten out his robes. The eyebrow did not go down. In fact, seemingly by magic, it went up further. “Ah...is there something on my face?” 

Clarke rolled her eyes to the ceiling and pursed her lips.”Blake, we are going to Diagon Alley as a public show of gratitude for your ‘heroics’ in saving me from Dax.” She glared at his wrinkled robes. “You are not wearing dirty school robes. 

His fingers fiddled with the edges of his sleeves. “I don’t really have anything better,” he muttered. 

A truly pained expression crossed her face. “Are you really incapable of ironing your shirts?” 

“Not all of us have elves that keep our clothing pressed and ironed at all times Princess.” He snapped, embarrassed by his clothing. 

“There are such things as household charms. You should at least take good care of what you have.” She said in an exasperated tone while pointing her wand at him. 

Bellamy swallowed nervously as she muttered several spells under her breath. It was an odd sensation feeling his shirt straightening and heating up slightly while he was wearing it. The smudge on his tie vanished. A gust of warm air rushed through his hair before it straightened and laid itself down neater than the time he’d attempted to use hair gel. Blinking, he stared at his friend. “What?” 

She stepped forward, grabbing his tie and untying it before beginning to retie it. “Really, public appearance is important. Honestly, learn some household spells. It’s one thing to not be able to afford good clothes it is entirely another to not take care of what you have. If you are going to be seen with me, we’re going to have to get you a new outer robe while we’re out today.” She looked at his robe in some disgust. Aiming her wand at the edges of it, she began to cast charms at the stained edges trying to get the mud stains out that had been ground in during years of quidditch. 

Stepping back, he held his hands up in surrender. “Can we leave now Princess?” 

“Fine...we’re heading straight to Madame Malkins though.” She said, slipping her wand up her sleeve. 

He rocked back on his heels. “Is that really necessary? You’re already getting me a wand.” 

“Yes, and leaving you dressed like that will imply I’m not grateful for your rescue. If I’m going to publicly acknowledge a debt, then I’m going to do it properly.” She gripped his shoulder firmly before dragging him to the fireplace. “You’re not getting out of a public shopping trip. Stop attempting to delay us.” 

They went spinning through the fire after a final dark look thrown at him. He blinked as he tumbled out the other end. Her grip on his shoulder kept him upright but he had always hated floo travel. She was already dragging him out the back of the Leaky Cauldron. As they moved through the magical tavern, he noted the patrons talking quietly, heads hunched together, newspapers in various hands. Once they reached the brick wall, she released him and began to tap at the bricks. Deciding to break the silence, he spoke up with a historical fact. “Did you know the wall was put in place to prevent a squib revolt after the 1920 squib rights movement?” 

Clarke froze from where she’d been about to hit the last brick. “I did not, I’m not surprised though.” 

“There were several similar wand only access points put in throughout magical Britain after the squib protests were shut down.” He continued as the wall folded itself into an archway. 

“Robe first.” Clarke said, marching towards Madame Malkins. “Are you looking into a career in something related to history? You should, you’d be good at it.” 

“Yes, but there isn’t much work for people like me.” He shrugged. 

Clarke sighed and looked over at him. “If you need a sponsorship, we can find you someone who can do so. In fact, after the...incident, I could have an excuse to do so myself.” 

Bellamy shook his head. “Thanks, but I know we don’t want me to be too closely connected to you or any of your friends in the future.” 

“You’re right.” She said, her eyes pinching around the edges with frustration. 

Looking around curiously, he took in all the businesses he’d never had an opportunity to shop in before now. He’d never had enough money to even consider shopping in Diagon Alley. Mud street was where he’d always done his shopping. The lower prices and second hand items meant it was the only place he could afford. He also felt like he belonged on Mud street. There he was among people like him. It wasn’t that he stood out in Diagon Alley, but he certainly didn’t feel like he belonged there. Diagon Alley was the main thoroughfare of magical Britain. Every type of magical sentient being came and went through the Alley. As a result of that traffic, the shops on the Alley were expensive. Going into one to shop was certainly different from walking the Alley to reach one of its connecting streets or to get to the bank. 

As they entered the clothing shop he took in the fabrics hung on walls and folded on shelves. There were various enchanted tools on the tables and the work bench. Some of the fabric held enchanted patterns that swirled and twinkled. “What now?” He asked. 

Clarke gestured to a small round stand in front of the window. “Climb on Blake, we’re getting you something tailored.” 

Blanching, Bellamy did as he was told. A short busybody of a woman with grey hair pinned up in an elaborate pattern with hat pins sticking out at various intervals entered the room. “Lady Griffin!” The woman greeted happily. 

“Madame.” Clarke said, smiling though she didn’t offer her hand to the woman. “My acquaintance here is in need of a good outer robe.” 

Madame Malkin turned to examine him and began to tut. She raised her wand while her brow furrowed in serious thought. “Standard school robe then?” 

Clarke shook her head, ignoring Bellamy’s silent pleading for mercy. “No, tailored standard wear. Brass clasp, all the standard enchantments for repelling dirt, resistance to tearing, the usual.” 

“Hmmm…” The woman banished his robe into a heap on a chair to the side of where he was standing and bustled over to a rack of fabrics. “Is there a color you prefer?” 

Bellamy tried to push off the measuring tape that had started to measure his face. Once batted away, it began to measure his legs and he left it to its work. Looking up, he caught Clarke’s eye. “You know a nice grey or brown would be fine.” 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Black, wool blend.” She looked over at his outraged face. “Oh hush Blake, you know nothing about clothing and if I’m getting you a robe I’m getting you a useful robe.” 

He crossed his arms. “Black isn’t the only color that is useful.” 

“It is if you want it to work in multiple situations from job interviews to social engagements.” Clarke replied matter-of-factly. 

“Put your arms down boy.” Madame Malkin said as she held up a few pieces of fabric against him. “The standard black or this lovey coal black?” 

Clarke tilted her head. “Coal, and don’t give me that look Blake. I’ll eat my wand if I’m the first person to tell you that you need better clothing.” 

Bellamy winced as that one hit home...somehow this was worse than the idea of letting Roma help him next time he went shopping. Still, he obediently held out his arms as Madame Malkin began to cut swaths of fabric before sending them to his person where sewing needles began to sew them into place neatly. It was fascinating to watch, he would have to look up sewing enchantments. They seemed like they would have been an early invention and they would no doubt have quite the interesting history to them.

Madame Malkin looked at Clarke over her shoulder. “What do you think about a nice wine colored waistcoat to match? I can use coal thread and buttons to match the robe.” 

Clarke hummed. “An excellent suggestion, six buttons I think.” 

“Double breasted?” 

“You two do realize I’m here?” Bellamy interjected, feeling rather indignant. 

Clarke waved his indignance off with a dismissive gesture. “Just standard.” 

“Yes dear. As for you, young man, you’re clearly one of those wizards who can’t tell an outer cloak from an inner cloak.” Madame Malkin said as she pulled down a dark red fabric that Bellamy assumed must be wine colored. 

Thirty minutes later and Bellamy watched in horror as twelve galleons were handed over and his sweater vest and school robe shrunken and put in one of Clarke’s pockets. He had a feeling Clarke would have rather burnt them but was too polite to do so. Finally, they went back into the alley with him in the nicest clothing he had ever worn. Running a hand through his hair, he stared at the sleeve of his robe in wonder. 

“Right, let’s get a wand then.” Clarke said, smiling at him approvingly. 

He followed behind her trying to act like this was just another day and that he was as comfortable in his new clothes as the people around him appeared to be. Still, he could see how people seemed to react to him differently. Their eyes didn’t just slide over him. There was a slight tilt of acknowledgment. It was the oddest feeling. “This isn’t me.”

Clarke stopped turning to face him. “I know. Don’t worry, dressing up like this won’t be something you have to do often. I still think you should wear something a little better than your usual when you can afford it. However, this level of dress will not be expected of you in most circumstances. This just happens to be one of those occasions.” She reached out and patted his shoulder. “So, let me do something nice for you while I have the chance.” 

He nodded, swallowing emotions he didn’t know how to name. Ollivanders was the store of legends to him. Getting two galleons to rub together was hard enough that a luxury like a matched wand was nothing but a dream to him. So, he stepped into the dusty building with his eyes full of wonderment. It was full of tall leaning shelves with thousands of boxes of unique never before owned wands. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end from the sheer magic in the air. He’d never felt anything quite like it before. It was similar to some of the more magical areas inside Hogwarts. It felt more uncontrolled and almost sentient however, like the air moments before a lightning strike. So, when the spindly old man came around a corner with a wheezy voice, he almost jumped out of his skin. 

“Welcome. Ah, Ms. Griffin, vine and dragon heartstring, 11 inches, plenty of give. Still working with you well?” 

“As well as the day you sold it to me.” Clarke said, easily ignoring the man’s honestly creepy gaze. 

That gaze now moved to Bellamy. “Who do we have here?” He pulled up a pair of glasses before looking at him closely. “Mr. Grus’ bastard I see.” 

Bellamy’s fists tightened, his knuckles turning white. “I’m not that man’s son.” He practically snarled. 

“Magic doesn’t lie Mr. Blake.” He said while moving back to the shelves and pulling out boxes. 

Clarke reached out, gripping his arm. “Mr. Ollivander is a type of seer. He can see the lines of magic within a person or a wand. He doesn’t mean to insult you.” 

Breathing out through his nose, he forced himself to settle, his hands unclenching, stretching out his fingers. He reminded himself that he was nothing like that scum. “Well, he should keep some of those things to himself.” 

“Magic isn’t meant to be a secret Mr. Blake.” Ollivander said as he appeared in front of them, setting down a pile of wands. “Now, let’s see what wand will choose you.” He held out a box. “Maple and unicorn, nice and supple.” 

Reaching out, Bellamy gently lifted the wand and gave it a swish. It shocked his hand causing him to drop it with a yelp. 

“Not that one.” Ollivander said grabbing it out of the air and gently setting it back in its box. “Try this one, give it a wave. Holly and dragon heartstring.” 

Bellamy lifted it and waved it only to feel every hair on his body stand straight up from his body. He set it down cautiously looking at it suspiciously. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Clarke stifling laughter. 

Ollivander held out the box of yet another wand. His fingers wrapped around it and his whole hand to felt warm. The warmth spread right up his arm infusing his whole being. 

He seemed only vaguely aware of the clapping from the wandmaker as he stared at the wand in his hand with its dark wood. It felt like coming home, he hadn’t known a wand could feel like this. Looking up at Clarke, he spoke thickly. “Thank you.” 

She smiled softly at him but didn’t say anything. 

Ollivander, however, did speak. “Lovely match that. Mahogany and dragon heartstring. Protective, good for powerful spells.” 

Bellamy nodded, just holding his wand while Clarke handed over the seven galleons and then gently herded him out of the shop. He tucked it carefully in his sleeve where he could feel the warm wood against his arm. “Is this what magic always feels like?” 

“Yes, at least it’s what it’s supposed to feel like.” She bumped his shoulder slightly. 

He attempted to distract himself by looking around the Alley. He nearly choked when he saw the knot of the rebellion tattooed on a man’s neck. Forgetting his manners, he elbowed Clarke and pointed. “Do you know him?” 

Clarke looked as surprised as he was. “No.” 

“So, he’s not…” Bellamy trailed off in a sort of muted awe.

They both were silent for a moment, completely ignoring that the man had turned the corner and was no longer in sight. Clarke spoke with an odd lilt. “That might be the most pervasive example of trend setting I have ever seen. Roma is truly a powerful person.” 

“Clarke?” He looked at her warily. There was a familiar and frightening light in his friend’s eyes. 

She seemed to barely be present as she thought out loud. “I’ve made a mistake. I underestimated her influence. We should listen to her more often, I need to be better friends with her, she’s obviously going to be a valuable resource!” 

He felt his eyes widen in fear. If Clarke and Roma became actual friends, he knew his wardrobe would be doomed. “Lunch! We don’t want to be late for lunch!” 

____________________________________________________________________________

Bellamy was casting small charms about the private room at the Leaky Cauldron. He grinned, he was so used to forcing magic out for spells that when he had tried a simple dusting charm with his new wand he had scoured most of the grime off the walls. In fact, he was sure the room was cleaner than it had been for years. Clarke just seemed mildly bemused as she ate her meatloaf in companionable silence. 

He was so distracted by how much fun he was having with his new wand that he didn’t notice Murphy had arrived. Not till he heard the asshole’s laughter. 

“You have something you want to tell us Blake?” He crowed, pointing to the bubbles that were forming in mid-air. 

Bellamy pulled up, flushing vividly while banishing his bubbles in indignation. Clarke cut across him before he could say anything though. “Oh, lay off Murphy, he’s just enjoying true chemistry with a wand.” 

Murphy’s smirk grew. “Oh, new unexplored territory for you? I’d think you’d be used to having a stick up your ass.” 

“Shove it, like it’s not all unexplored territory for you.” He sat down with narrowed eyes. 

Clarke shot a silencing spell at the door. “You can go back to measuring wands later.” She sighed while pinching the bridge of her nose. “For now, were you able to secure the item?” 

He pulled out a grimy looking canvas bag and set it on the table, a foul smell emanating from it. “I present a hand of glory, which was hard to come by, believe me.” 

Bellamy reached out towards the bag. Taking a corner of the bag between two fingers, he upended it, causing the hand still clutching the candle in its dead fist to roll out of it. The air around the thing felt slimy. He wrinkled up his nose. “It’s real.” 

“Of course!” Murphy looked insulted. “That cost a pretty penny to find let alone acquire.” 

“Well done.” Clarke said, looking at it in awe. “We can go ahead with the break in at the Ministry before the end of the year now.” 

“I’m sorry what? You’re breaking into the Ministry of Magic without me?” Murphy exclaimed in some actual outrage. 

Bellamy looked at him curiously. “Wait, you actually want in on everything?” 

Murphy flicked some of his hair out of his face. “I am loyal to the cause, illegal soul magic and all that.” He seemed to consider what to say next. “Since I signed up with you guys I make enough cash to eat on the regular and the jobs you have me running for the cause are interesting.” 

It took a moment for Bellamy to really comprehend that yes, Murphy could be trusted. That simple fact was so far from his usual understanding of the world it had taken till just now to dawn on him. That’s what the oath meant. It bound a piece of your soul and your free will to the cause, not being loyal wasn’t a possibility. So, “couldn’t trust him further than you could throw him” Murphy, was completely trustworthy. He frowned slightly. Well, as long as it involved the rebellion. It had never occurred to him that apparently, the rebellion was an equal opportunity employer either. “Do you think the employment opportunity could make a good hook to get people interested in joining?” 

Murphy seemed to consider it. “Who knows maybe in our neighborhood. At least we won’t have to explain what it is anymore. Nice way to come out with a bang.” 

“What did Mud and Knockturn street think of the broadcast?” Bellamy asked curiously. After all, those were his people and in his opinion they were the ones they were fighting for. Diagon Alley hadn’t seemed much different from before other than the brief sighting of the tattoo and the strange huddled nature of the Cauldron. 

Kicking back, Murphy let his chair lean back onto two legs. “Well, most people think you lot are a bunch of crazies that are going to end up in Azkaban by next week. Then there’s the usual rumors and fears of Auror raids in retaliation for humiliating the Minister. Nicely done by the way.” He smirked at them approvingly. “For now, no one is sure what to expect. Most everyone just wants to keep their head down and stay out of the line of fire and all that.” 

Clarke hummed, looking thoughtful. “Has anyone noticed any connections with the Latrocinium party?” 

“Naw, nobody who’s a nobody gives a damn about the Wizengamot Princess. You’re in the clear, nobody on Mud Street gives a crap about you.” He tilted his head and then spoke with a smug grin. “Full offense meant of course.” 

“Thanks.” She said dryly, then more seriously, “That’s good though. None of the Wizengamot members have given any sign of noticing what is underneath my political moves.” She looked seriously at Murphy. “You have more of an ear to the ground with the general populace than I do. I’ll need for you to be my ears and inform me of how people react to the changes coming.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He drawled, leaning back in his chair. “By the by, this JEM thing is badass. So many options for how to use it. You wouldn’t happen to have a few more laying around somewhere?” 

“Do you need them for your tasks?” Bellamy asked suspiciously. Sue him, even with the oath he didn’t trust Murphy not to be a self-interested jack-ass.

Murphy shrugged. “Well, it has applications for smuggling.” 

“Then no.” Bellamy glared at him. 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Would it help you with getting things for the Latrocinium?” 

“Yes.” He said shortly, suddenly looking less playful. 

“Clarke?” Bellamy turned to her. “You know he’s going to use it to help his own aims.” 

“Of course,” She replied. “Still, it doesn’t change the fact he can and will be using them for us as well.” Turning her attention back to Murphy, she continued. “I’ll see about getting you some. Owl any requirements you have.” 

“Thanks.” He grabbed the third plate of meatloaf and began to dig into it. 

Bellamy groaned and let his head fall back. “We need to increase recruitment if we mean to make more statements publicly. Some fireworks and a public message isn’t going to get us the recruits we need.” 

“You’ve got a point.” Murphy pointed his fork at him. “You’re not legit yet.” 

“So, we need to start making waves.” Clarke said slowly. “I have been meaning to speak with the manager of the Applebee Arrows.” 

“How would that help us?” Bellamy asked curiously while reflecting on the ridiculous turn of events that the biggest Quidditch downer he knew owned a professional team. 

Clarke looked at him like he was missing something. “We need to show people change, change worth fighting for. People idolize Quidditch players for whatever reason. Don’t you think people would find it inspiring if people of similar blood status to them performed well on such a recognized stage?” 

“Well yeah,” He shrugged. “But like how’s that going to make anyone want to fight?” 

“It isn’t all about fighting Blake. First, we have to show them that there is something worth fighting for. So, let’s start with sports.” She spoke passionately. 

“Just because you own the team doesn’t mean you can just change up the roster Clarke!” Bellamy protested. 

Murphy choked. “You own the team?!” 

They both ignored Murphy’s exclamation. Instead, Bellamy continued his protest. “You know next to nothing about Quidditch. You can’t just hire some muggleborns and go ‘poof’ winning team. There are things like cohesion, team dynamics and chemistry, sponsorship, fan loyalty, contracts for already established players that you have to consider.” He waved his hands helplessly. “You can’t just change it on a whim.” 

Clarke crossed her arms. “Watch me.” 

He let out a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “Clarke, you can’t just cause mass chaos for a team like that it’s… it’s sacrilege!” 

“It’s a sport not a religion Blake.” She raised a brow. “Besides, do you really think I’d just make changes without working with people who know more about the subject than I do?” 

“That’s… you still can’t just… why Quidditch?!” He managed to get out. 

She rolled her eyes. “Because everyone is completely obsessed with it. Just look at your reaction to me suggesting I change things up in one team. If we want change, we have to get people’s attention and there’s no better way of doing that than using something they already adore. Still, that’s a project for another time. You and Raven were working on a parade?” 

Murphy coughed and just set his fork down on his plate. Clearly, he’d decided eating was a danger to his health. “Parade? We’d all be killed.” 

Bellamy grinned while deciding to bring up the Quidditch thing later. He feared for the sport if Clarke got her grubby hands on it. She just did not have the proper respect for its awesomeness. The parade was a good distraction to get her off the topic for a while. “We don’t need to physically be there if we use enchantments! We enchant sheets, or mannequins or something to walk in the parade on our behalf. Don’t you think that would give you enough cover to use that grimy thing.” He pointed to the hand of glory. “And sneak into the Ministry department for tracking underage magic?” 

“How would you get the enchanted items into the streets without getting people arrested?” Clarke asked while pulling out a notebook and fountain pen. She quickly began scribbling notes. 

He shrugged slightly. “We’re not completely sure yet. If we used elves the tracking of illegal apparition would be difficult.” 

“We can’t keep depending on elves to get us places unnoticed. It’s not like the Ministry doesn’t have elves of their own.” Clarke disagreed. 

Murphy cleared his throat. “What about us squibs? Nobody would connect a squib to something magical happening. You’d just need us to release the things anyways.” 

Clarke bit her lip. “And if they decided to turn you into a scapegoat?” 

Bellamy frowned. “You’re not getting yourself arrested, we can find a better way.” 

“Maybe we can apparate to pre-arranged safe houses?” Clarke suggested. “If we had a house with the necessary wards set, following the apparition trail would be impossible. Three apparitions to string the magic trail over as much of the region as possible before going behind wards would let you lose aurors unless one is able to physically touch you while you’re escaping.” 

“We would still need a distraction for our members who start the parade…” Bellamy hummed under his breath as he thought about it. “A distraction for our distraction.” 

“What about a violation of the Statute of Secrecy?” Murphy looked suddenly smug. “Nothing big and unexplainable but enough to get the aurors out and in the muggle world. You know something like a dancing table at an elementary muggle school.” 

Bellamy reached out, offering a high five to Murphy, who promptly accepted, slapping their palms together. “That’s brilliant. The auror squad on duty would be called out immediately to deal with the problems involved with something magical happening in front of so many people. It would leave only security and the single auror who’s in charge of the Alley there. That’s easy enough to escape from if we get into too much trouble.” 

Clarke bit her lip. “We might not want to do it in front of such young children. Aurors tend to use obliviate far too casually. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for damaging the minds of any children. Perhaps we could do it in a university cafeteria instead.” 

“It would be more believable in an elementary school where it could be explained away as accidental magic. Children’s minds are also more apt to take suggestions so the aurors would be less likely to need memory charms.” Bellamy stared at her, pretty sure Clarke already knew all this. “The kids won’t be harmed. Stuff like this happens, the aurors know how to deal with it.” 

Clarke looked slightly ashamed. “I know. It’s just that ever since I saw what they did to Charlotte… children that young shouldn’t be involved in this sort of thing.” 

Murphy looked confused at the reference but Bellamy was sympathetic. “This won’t be like that. The kids will get an entertaining show that they will later remember as something completely ordinary. The aurors won’t hurt them.” 

“Not that this display of sap isn’t entertaining but is there anything else you need me for? I’m a busy guy.” Murphy interjected. 

“Oh, shut up Murphy,” Clarke snapped playfully. “Bellamy, is there anything we need for Murphy to acquire for us?” 

Bellamy pulled out a list, it was a bit smudged but was still legible. “Here,” he passed it to Murphy. “These are the items that our resident inventors need that they can’t get on their own. Some of it’s just from the muggle world but, good luck.” 

Murphy glanced through the list and raised an eyebrow. “Do I want to know why they want styrofoam and gasoline?” 

“Probably not,” he conceded. “I'm afraid it is going to be something horribly flammable. Apparently, it’s necessary for the new batch of enchanted long lasting fireworks they’re making but I’m not sure that’s all they’re using it for.” 

“Huh…” Murphy folded up the list and shoved it into his pocket. “Well, I’ll message you when I get ahold of all this. Don’t go and do anything interesting without letting me know.” 

“Stay safe asshole.” Bellamy said, standing up with Murphy and shaking his hand. 

“You too, dunderhead.” Murphy replied with a smirk. He gave a little mocking salute to Clarke before heading out the door. 

He stared as the door closed, leaving him alone with Clarke again. Running a hand through his hair, he looked over at his friend. “It’s going to get more dangerous now, isn’t it?” 

“Yes, but if we’re careful we might get away with it.” She laughed slightly. “We’re voting on my bills tomorrow. No one has pointed out that the wording of the bills specifically protects students of any magical bloodline. Still, all it would take is one person to make the connection and they won’t be voted in and life becomes much more difficult for us.” 

“You specifically wrote those bills to be as dry as dirt, and to read excessively long.” He shuddered at the remembrance of the damn things. He was a history buff extraordinaire, dry boring texts were in his blood, and he had still felt himself going cross-eyed by the end of the first paragraph. 

Clarke laughed. “Let’s hope that helps. You do realize muggle mannequins are supremely creepy and are way more terrifying than we want to come off for a parade?” 

He accepted the change of topic. “Yeah, Raven was leaning towards sheets but Miller was arguing that the fabric would be harder to enchant than plastic.” 

She tilted her head. “Well, we’ll have to trust our inventors then. As long as we don’t terrify the population.” 

They sat there in silence for a while before Bellamy found himself double checking his suspicions. “Are you avoiding going back to Hogwarts because Finn was wandering around the great hall with a bouquet of flowers?” 

“Yup.” She said easily. 

He considered his options. “Want to go work on the safe house since we’re out anyways?” 

She smiled widely, standing up quickly. “That sounds like a fantastic idea.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for the great comments!

Clarke straightened her school tie. She hadn’t had time to change out of her school robes yet, and honestly the more people who saw her as a schoolgirl the better. After all, the mileage she’d get out of being considered a veritable child, would not last more than a handful of years. She stood as she saw her appointment arrive. Smiling at the poor man, she greeted him. “Mr. Cotton, a pleasure.” 

The tall man with salt and pepper in his curly closely cut hair smiled in relief as he spotted her. “Lady Griffin.” He glanced around the establishment while shifting slightly uncomfortably. “Interesting… location.” 

She laughed and gestured to the open chair across from her. “I wish to discuss the strategy for the team in the coming year without being overheard by anyone.” She raised a brow pointedly at the other people in the shop. 

Madame Puddifoot's Tea Shop was not exactly the type of place for sports talk. The small building was host to three couples leaning closely across the small tables in various corners about the place. They were all completely besotted with one another and not paying the least amount of attention on anyone else. Clarke had specifically chosen the table as well. It was a small table with a wall to her back, a window to her side, and she’d already put up several muffling charms around them. Gregory Cotton seemed to catch onto these facts fairly quickly as he did a scan of the room. “Oh, that’s brilliant.” 

“Exactly, it was this or invite you to one of my private properties.” Clarke rolled her eyes as she sat down. “It would be beyond foolish to take a respected quidditch coach to any pub or restaurant where the likely patrons would have enough interest in the sport to make it awkward.” 

He took his seat and shifted under his uncomfortably new day robes. Clarke almost felt bad for the man who had dressed-up for the meeting only for it to end up being in a tea shop. He glanced at the heart covered menu and blanched slightly. “People actually come to this place?” 

“Not a romantic underneath it all then?” She asked, smiling while picking up the cup of tea she’d ordered ahead of time. 

Shaking his head, he relaxed. “No, my wife always is badgering me about it too.” He grinned conspiratorially at her. “If she didn’t love quidditch as much as I do, I’m sure she’d have dropped me ages ago.” 

“She’s a reporter for Quidditch Weekly correct?” Clarke asked, waving over Madame Puddifoot and quickly asking for a pot of tea and some sandwiches. 

Mr. Cotton looked thankful he didn’t need to read the glitter and heart covered menu and beamed at the mention of his wife. “Yes, she interviewed me when I first joined the team.” He tapped the Appleby Arrow pin on his robes unconsciously. “After that, well, I was smitten and so was she. I was quite the handsome bloke back then.” 

“Why did you choose the Arrows Mr. Cotton?” Clarke asked curiously. 

He proudly sat up straight. “My grandmother was on the team when she was young. I grew up rooting for the team and when I made the big leagues there was never a choice, not once I knew they’d have me.” 

Clarke clasped her hands in her lap and looked at the man seriously. “Tell me Mr. Cotton, do you want our team win?” 

“Of course!” He exclaimed, a fanatic fire in his eyes. 

She took a sip of tea. “We haven’t won the National Cup in almost forty years. The National Quidditch Cup is this month and yet we were never in the contending for it.” She held up her hand to stop him from retorting. “Of course, since you’ve taken over as coach our standing has increased within the league. What I want to know is why we’ve been doing so badly?” Clarke was somewhat aware of the reasoning but she honestly was not a quidditch person. Raven had showed her some muggle football matches which she had found far more engaging. Kicking the ball on the ground was a bit odd, but the game seemed one of strategy rather than luck. 

Mr. Cotton seemed to wilt slightly at the mentions of their poor track record. The fanatic light didn’t dim too much though. “I could talk about all sorts of issues that compile to prevent us from moving upwards in the ranks.” He leaned back in his chair. “However, the greatest problem is that our seeker is sub-par. With all the losses we’ve had, we don’t have the finances to make a bid for a better one. Even if we could make the bid, the great seekers want to play for the winning teams.” He shook his head sadly. 

Clarke bit her lip, slightly worried how he’d take the next few questions. “Which players are indispensable and which would you replace with better ones?” 

“Winston, our team captain and keeper, is the best keeper in the league. He’s stuck with us out of team loyalty but without him we wouldn’t stand a chance.” Mr. Cotton frowned and rubbed at his chin. “Lance is our best chaser. If I could get two other chasers as talented as her, we’d score a lot more. To be honest, I could replace everyone else on the team. We’ve been trying to get enough put together for a bid for a replacement seeker. That’s where we’re weakest and it has to be our priority. Our seeker only gets the snitch when our beaters do their job properly and disable the opposing seeker. The two beaters have got talent, but they don’t mesh well together which makes them inconsistent.” 

“If you cleared the roster except for Winston and Lance, would you be willing to build the team from the ground up with new members?” Clarke asked. They both paused as their sandwiches and tea were delivered. Once the Madame left, she turned her attention back to the coach across from her. 

He seemed to be wrestling with the idea. “There’s a clause in all our players’ contracts that if the head coach as well as the owner agree on it we can nullify their contracts at the end of a season. It would be a scandal but we could do it.” His brow’s furrowed in thought. “I don’t know how we’d afford a new roster though.” 

Clarke refilled her cup from the pot and spoke. “Pretend money is no object. What I want to know is if you got a team of all new players except for Winston and Lance could you get them trained and ready for the next season?” 

“Yes… it would take some doing but it’s possible.” He leaned forward in his chair. “We’d probably do badly the first year at least, but we could really be something to be reckoned with after that.” 

“If, say, the new player’s contracts cost five hundred galleons a month, would that change anything?” 

Mr. Cotton blinked in a sort of trance. He opened his mouth and then closed it. “That would… that would change things. We could afford to buy new equipment and hire an assistant coach. We’d have a chance of not losing our current ranking our first year out the gate.” 

Clarke grinned, good, she’d baited the hook properly. Sitting up slightly straighter, she looked him straight in the eye. “Mr. Cotton I want to win and I think we can do it. Not only that, I think we can do it this year if we do this right.” 

“How?” He asked completely focused, if slightly confused looking. 

“We bring up players from the Mud Circuit.” She noticed his shocked expression and pushed on quickly. “We both know they’re good enough. Better even, since we’d be able to pick the cream of the crop. We’d have no competition from the other teams. It would take a simple livable salary to get the star players from the circuit to sign on with us. Hire a new assistant coach from the circuit as well. It’ll bring new ideas into the team. Use the money we’d save by paying lower salaries to reinvest in all new equipment. Get the best training gear possible.” 

“And when the sponsors leave?” He asked slumping back into his chair. “Sure, we could get a solid team for a year, but we’d go broke without sponsors. Fans would stop coming to cheer for us without star players. The team would be finished in two years.” 

“Only if you lose.” Clarke said fiercely. “If you can win, really win, the fans will stay. If you think the fan base is made entirely of purebloods like us, you’re highly mistaken.” 

He seemed to consider it, a gleam of fanaticism shining through. “And the sponsors?” 

Clarke tapped her fingers against the table in a dull click, click, click. “How many of their contracts could be canceled without having to pay a penalty?” 

He tilted his head cogs clearly turning. “I'm not the manager, but I do know that our three largest sponsorships are renewed on a bi-annual basis. I believe most of the smaller sponsors are on a yearly renewable rate. The sponsors we have would be unlikely to accept our new managing style. We could lose a lot of those sponsors. We would have to get new sponsors fast in that case.” 

She hummed, “Picking up sponsors from other pureblood businesses would be difficult… What if we branch out and accept sponsorships from less reputable businesses, like those on Mud street? I know there are several shops in Godric's Hollow that haven’t been able to sponsor a team because the owners won’t let them. However, they still make a nice sum and would be able to contribute.”

His knuckles whitened. “We’d have to win and win big to pull it off, if we don’t we’d be screwed.” 

“The point of all of this is to win.” Clarke reminded him. 

He shook his head. “If we lose, we could lose everything. I might never be hired as a coach again, my career, reputation, everything could be ruined. The Appleby Arrows could be the first professional team to fall to complete ruin in over five hundred years! I don’t know much about you high society folks, but I don’t think your Wizengamot friends would be kind to you.” 

Clarke leaned in. “Still, could you do it?” 

“You’re asking if I can re-make a team that’s highest rank in the last twenty years was sixth and in a single year get them to be contenders for the National Cup!” he blustered. 

“Could you do it? Because if this works, the Arrows will be legendary. We’ll have pulled off the most impressive win since the Cannons won the National Cup in ‘24’.” 

He stared down at the table, utterly still before looking up and meeting her eyes. “Give me a week to make enquiries.” 

She smiled broadly. “Done. Know that if we do this you have my full backing.” 

Mr. Cotton shook his head while chuckling. “You’re a risk taker Lady Griffin, but it might work.” 

“When it comes to quidditch is anyone sensible?” She asked grinning, excitement running through her. 

He laughed outright at that. “Nobody with any decency dislikes quidditch.” 

Clarke had to struggle not to snort. She honestly did not understand the sport. Muggle sports were so much more interesting from what Raven had showed her. Still, she knew better than to mention her bafflement at the sport to a quidditch fanatic. Well, other than Bellamy because it was fun to watch his face turn into a mask of horror. “Is there anything I can do to make your enquiries easier?” 

He shook his head. “I’ll be speaking with people who are the sort I wouldn’t feel comfortable having in the presence of a lady of your standing,” he huffed. “I understand, of course, that having less pure blood doesn’t make them any less skilled at quidditch, but still. There’re a lot of unsavory types in the Mud League.” 

“Perhaps they’ll surprise you?” Clarke said while picking up her sandwich and beginning to eat. 

Mr. Cotton looked oddly wistful. “Let’s hope they shall.” 

“Indeed.” 

____________________________________________________________________________

Clarke felt her eyes burning as she tried to keep them open. It was only six and already she felt like just closing her eyes and falling asleep right there in the library. Sitting up, she set her quill down before pressing the palms of her hands into her closed eyes. Merlin, she was exhausted. Letting her hands fall away, she spoke softly. “Tris.” 

The house elf popped next to her. “Yes, mistress?” 

Clarke smiled at her friend. “Would you mind getting me some coffee from the kitchens?” 

“Of course!” Tris snapped her fingers before disappearing. A minute later, a steaming hot mug of coffee appeared next to her piles of parchment. 

Reaching out, she cupped the warm mug with her hands and just breathed in the scent of the liquid energy. Sipping it slowly, she closed her eyes, letting them rest while she refueled. She was spread thin these days. Sadly, she drained her mug in a frighteningly short period of time and was soon forced back to her letter. Dipping her quill in the ink well she began to write. 

‘Ms. Allie Glass,

As requested during the latest Wizengamot assembly I have enclosed a copy of my research on which I based the Excellence in Magical Education bill. I’m sure you will agree that the state of Britain's schools is behind the times. It behooves us to reform our system before our peers reduce us to a mockery of our once resplendent system. If you have any further questions or would like to schedule a meeting to discuss the bill further, I am amenable to such an arrangement. I only wish for the delay on the vote concerning the two bills I have put forward to be brought to a timely end, so we can move forward towards a brighter future for Magical Britain. 

I was surprised that your party moved forward with the revised agreement with the French. Of course, I understand the inclination to further their rights within our borders. After all, I am honored and proud to call Ambassador Dante Wallace a dear friend. Unfortunately, I will be unable to vote for such a measure without some assurance that we will not be allowing Mr. Cage Wallace’s division of the French aurors onto our sovereign territory. While surely a small oversight, if a clause ensuring that such a result would never occur was added, I would be pleased to both vote for it and speak to Lord Kane on the matter. 

On a more personal matter, I recently came across a surprising rumor that I was considering marrying one Mr. Blake. I would like to assure you that nothing could be further from the truth. I have found working with Mr. Blake to be less awful than expected, especially in light of certain events at Hogwarts that you and the minister are no doubt aware of. Still, the idea that I would consider him as anything more than a useful acquaintance at best is laughable. I have every intention of marrying an appropriate partner at a time more appropriate for me. Between my duties as head girl, my studies, and of course my position within the Wizengamot I’m afraid I barely even have time to show more than a passing interest in my quidditch team, let alone have time for romantic inclinations. You may assure the Minister, my godfather, that he need not worry or listen to any foolish rumors. I will, of course, seek his opinion on any possible suitor due to his greater understanding of the way things are. 

Finally, on the matter of your confirmation as Senior Undersecretary of the Minister, I offer my congratulations. I have no doubt you will be an exceptional arm of the Minister in all things. In the coming years, I hope that we may work together for the good of Britain. While not members of the same party, I would be pleased to find us allies nonetheless. 

With my regards,  
May you be blessed by magic,

Lady Clarke Griffin

Clarke stared at the load of dragon shit she’d just written down. Honestly, as if she’d ever be stupid enough to consider Dante a friend instead of an uneasy ally. Not to mention, how concerned she was by Allie’s promotion to Senior Undersecretary. The woman was deeply unsettling and Clarke worried that the woman was far more savvy than she let on to being. Still, it was best to keep one’s enemies close and while she had the ear of Minister Jaha that could change if she didn’t ensure that his closest advisors didn’t interfere. Allie Glass was not someone she could charm though. The woman was all sharp lines and intelligent elegance. No, her best option with her was to convince the woman she was someone who could be manipulated. 

Picking up her wand, she dried the ink on the letter. With that done, she folded it and put it in an envelope. She’d already enclosed statistics on international education from the last fifty years inside the envelope. Standing up, she stretched, her back popping from sitting hunched over for so long. Sorting through her textbooks, she cringed. She still had an essay to finish for Transfiguration before she could attempt to get some much-needed sleep. Slinging her bag over one shoulder, she began to head back to her common room. She’d already done the research for her essay and honestly her armchair in the Slytherin dormitories was calling to her. As she was walking down the drafty stone corridor to the nearest staircase, she came to a stop at the feeling of her pocket watch heating up with a message. 

Her eyes closed once more as she let out an audible groan. She was completely done with this day, she’d already given Bellamy and Finn control of the tutoring session tonight knowing she wasn’t up for it. However, apparently, the rebellion couldn’t go a single day without aid so she could get her homework done and deal with political backstabbing. Reaching into the inner pocket of her robes, she pulled out the watch and flipped it open so she could see the message. Silently, she prayed to Merlin that whomever this message was for it didn’t concern her. Opening her eyes cautiously, she stared at the writing. ‘RR in Ptns. room w/ Brynes requesting CG.’ 

Clarke found she wanted to bang her head against something hard… repeatedly. With a quick tap of her wand on the watch, she sent out her reply. ‘CG on my way.’ With that, she stuffed it back in her pocket and began to make the trek down to the potions classroom. At least, this might only be a short detour between her and the armchair next to the fireplace. As she was stepping over the trick step, she remembered that since Brynes was there, she’d need a reason to be in the damn classroom. Which, of course, she didn’t have thanks to testing out of potions over break. Professor Byrne would have to be familiar with animagus though? Well, her essay was going to get additional research then. 

As she walked down the stairs, she called. “Tris.” 

Tris popped to her side. “Something you need mistress?” 

Clarke held out the letter for Allie Glass. “Could you send this out for me? Feel free to grab yourself a truffle for the trouble.” 

Tris bounced in excitement at the prospect of chocolate. “Of course! Will you be needing anything else tonight?” 

“I don’t think so, go ahead and try to get some sleep. At least one of us should be well rested.” Clarke huffed out in amusement at the ridiculous amount of work she and her elf were doing. At least Tris enjoyed it.

“I’ll be seeing you in the morning then mistress.” Tris winked and popped away. 

Tris got far too much joy out of informing her every morning of the things she had to accomplish that day. Someday soon, Harper could take over the secretarial role and some of her sanity might be preserved. No creature should take that much joy when talking about a schedule that should require a time-turner. Shaking her head fondly, she came to the closed door of the potions classroom and raised her hand knocking.

“What is it?” A sharp voice asked through the door. 

Rolling her eyes, Clarke straightened her spine, letting her shoulders drop back, and pulling up the confident air of a head girl. Opening the door, she strolled into the classroom, taking in the situation quickly. Raven was sitting next to a cauldron with a bushy haired first year and looking remarkably mutinous. The first year’s eyes were glassy and swimming with tears she was valiantly trying to prevent from falling. Raising a single brow in judgment, she turned to face Professor Byrne whose normally neat hair was in slight disarray, fury burning in her face. “Professor.” 

Byrne seemed to attempt to pull herself back into a more controlled state. “Griffin, did you need something?” 

“I was hoping to discuss the process of becoming an animagus but if you’re busy with… whatever this is, I can come back later.” Clarke said while taking an obvious second look at the room. The potion Raven and the first year were working on was clearly a nearly hopeless attempt at a boil potion. 

“No, it’s fine. What did you need help with?” Byrne said, walking back over to her desk. 

Clarke followed her after making eye contact with Raven. While Byrne’s back was turned, Raven mouthed the word ‘detention’. With a sharp nod, Clarke returned her attention to the professor. “Before we get to the topic, I was wondering if my tutoring program has been helpful to your students?” 

“Yes, far fewer incompetents causing explosions.” The woman shot a glare at the first year. 

Her lips pulled into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes as Clarke sat down across from Byrne. “Does the fact you no longer need to oversee as many detentions help? I had hoped that with the added free time you would be able to spend more time on your own work as a potions master.” 

Byrne’s eye twitched slightly. “It holds promise but as you can see, even though it is no longer required of me, I cannot simply leave an imbecile under the guard of a muggleborn’s incompetent eye.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you exaggerate.” Clarke waved her hand. “Reyes is the top student in her year. Regardless of her unfortunate heritage, she still holds promise. Still, I understand your concern. Hopefully, over time, you will find the system more helpful.” 

“We can only hope,” the woman said. 

Pulling out her notes, she took out a fountain pen so that she could take notes. “I was wondering about something I saw in some of the texts. Is one’s patronus truly the form of one’s animagus? After all a patronus’ form can change.” 

“The correlation between the form of one’s animagus and patronus is interesting and thought to be linked with the very soul of the caster. Many postulate that for the form of either your patronus or your animagus to change, one’s very soul must change at a fundamental level. Though there have been cases where a person’s patronus changed, I have never heard of a case where someone’s animagus form changed. There have even been a few cases where your patronus and your animagus transformation are different beasts, though this is thought to be the sign of some great division in your soul. I would not trust someone whose animagus transformation is different from their patronus animal. Completing your animagus transformation requires you to have a deep understanding of yourself and be at peace with all the aspects of your soul.” Byrne leaned back in her chair. “That is one of the reasons why it is such a rare skill. It requires you to be absolutely honest with yourself at a level few can manage. To see yourself so clearly is a rare thing and most are unable to do so. Of course, the inherent danger of becoming stuck in one’s animal form is the greatest deterrent.” 

Clarke nodded thoughtfully. She knew most of, if not all, of this already, but it was still interesting. “So, you’re implying that the very process of becoming an animagus would prevent your form from ever changing? Your point is that if you know your own soul well enough to become an Animagus, then you have made your soul unchangeable.” 

“Exactly!” Byrne said. “When I was a student I attempted to pursue the art actually.” She smiled nostalgically. “By the time I was capable of knowing my form, I had realized I could not allow myself to achieve my goal.” 

“Why?” Clarke asked. The idea of not gaining such a skill after putting in that amount of work seemed nonsensical to her. 

“My form. Every form holds traits that it will magnify if the transformation is followed. For example, a person with a rabbit as their form is likely to raise their anxiety levels and find themselves searching out small and dark places. A cat animagus will find their sense of smell increased. They will also have better night vision and better hearing, but along with that also comes a tendency to follow small movements and obsessive cleaning habits. Particular aspects of yourself that are in line with your animal form will be enhanced even if you only transform once. So, when I realized the traits I was in danger of increasing, I dared not continue. It was one thing to understand oneself, it is another thing entirely to accept the flaws implicit in your own nature.” Byrne seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, her eyes not truly focusing on anything. Shaking herself out of it, she returned her attention to Clarke. “Like all soul magic it has a cost.” 

Clarke nodded in understanding. “Why is it not banned like almost all other forms of soul magic?” That was something she was curious about learning. The animagus transformation was old, no one even knew who had invented the obscure branch of magic. Thus, it had no family ties to keep it legal. Nor was it a particularly useful or common branch of magic. It was almost entirely unused in Britain with just fourteen registered animagus, possibly a dozen or so illegal ones. 

“That is an interesting question.” Bryne seemed to consider her answer. “I don’t rightly know, but if I had to make a guess, I’d say that it is so rare a magic there has never been any need. Not to mention, the dangers it poses to the government are minimal. Also, the fact that failures in achieving the transformation are grotesque and often very difficult to undo, makes it an unpopular field. One of the most feared dangers is permanently being transformed into an animal. If your soul truly believes that you are an animal, there is no magic that can undo the transformation. It serves as a warning of the dangers of soul magics.” 

Clarke blinked, that was… surprisingly logical for the government. Almost unbelievably so. She was still considering a response to drag on the conversation when Raven spoke up from behind her. “The potion is done and cauldron cleaned.” She set down a vile of potion with a slightly aggressive tick to the side of her face. 

Bryne reached out, picking up the vile and squinting at it critically. “Acceptable, barely. Feel free to leave.” 

Raven turned on her heel and helped the first year up and started to usher her out the door. Clarke felt relief at the fact she could finally go back to her common room. “Thank you for your help. I went and chose an obscure branch of magic for my essay and I’ve been regretting it.” Standing, she gave a respectful nod. “I really should go and write the essay now though.” 

“Of course, you’re always welcome to come to my door with questions.” Professor Byrne said as Clarke departed. 

As soon as the door shut, Clarke picked up her pace, catching up to Raven and the first year. “Wait up!” 

Raven turned, her mouth pulled into a tight line. “That blasted bigoted bint is not just a horrible person, but a monster of a teacher.” 

Clarke drew up in caution, of course she agreed and knew how much Raven detested the woman, but this level of frustration was unusual. “What happened?” 

“That woman gave Susie here detention for tripping and breaking her potion vial in class this morning.” Raven’s nostrils were flaring and she was clearly furious. “Then, of course, I pulled the tutor card to watch out for her and just… that bint was hovering and berating everything. Of course, she couldn’t get the potion right with her criticising her if she so much as breathed!” 

Clarke crouched slightly so she could look the blushing first year in the eye. “You still got the potion done even with all that. Well done.” Reaching out, she fluffed up the girl’s hair proudly. 

Susie blushed brightly and tilted her head down towards the ground. Glancing up, she spoke carefully and with gaps for starts and stops. “You… really think… so?” 

“Of course I do. You may just have a future in potion making. Some of the greatest witches and wizards in our history were potion masters.” Clarke said softly while watching the surprised and flustered expression on the little girl’s face. This, this was why everything she was doing was worth it. Oh, revenge against her father’s murderers would be sweet. She wasn’t an angel who would refuse the rush that came from successfully executing the destruction of one’s enemies. Still, it was making the world a better place for people like Susie, Raven, Bellamy, and all of the other mixed blood students that was worth the sacrifice change required. 

Susie bit her lip. “Really?” Her eyes darted about the stone hallway. “But… Professor Byrne is… horrible. I don’t… I don’t want to be like her.” 

Raven let out a snort. “You don’t have to be like that uptight piece of work.” 

“Raven’s right, you can be whatever you want, and being a miserable and hateful woman isn’t something I think you want, is it?” Clarke asked. 

Shaking her head, the girl smiled shyly at the insults to one of the most feared professors at Hogwarts. “No, I want to be nice.” 

“Then you’re already well on your way.” Clarke said, straightening up to her full height. The fact she was still shorter than Raven irritated her slightly. Shrugging it off, she pulled Raven into a hug. “Thank you for protecting her.” 

“Of course,” Raven muttered while hugging her back. 

Drawing back, Clarke smiled at her friend. “Do you mind making sure Susie here get’s to bed alright?” 

“Duh, of course not.” Raven rolled her eyes, taking a step back. “You owe me the details of your quidditch talks at breakfast tomorrow.” 

“Alright, talk to you tomorrow Raven.” Clarke waved before turning and taking a path deeper into the dungeons. Shifting, she pulled the strap of her bag so that it was hanging from her shoulder properly. Finally, she had arrived at the entrance to the common room. She felt like crying in joy at being one step closer to her bed. Merlin, she was exhausted. A password later and she was settling into her favorite arm chair in the common room. 

The soft scratching of her quill as she began to write her essay was comforting, as was the warm crackling of the fire. She was aware of the way the other Slytherin’s watched her even in her quiet moments. After all, she’d done the impossible and taken control of not just the house, but aspects of the school itself with seemingly little effort. It was a show of power they were still reeling from even now. Three more inches and she would be free to sleep. That hopeful thought was laid to rest when Ontari approached and sat down across from her. Lowering her essay and raising her head slowly, she looked up at the dark-haired girl who was sitting respectfully and properly. That was surprising enough from the contrary girl, but what was even more surprising was that Fox was walking over and sitting down next to her. 

Wondering what this unusual approach was about, Clarke asked, “Ontari, Fox, may I help you?” 

Ontari spoke with a surprisingly soft voice. “What do you foresee in the future of Slytherin house?” 

Frowning, Clarke settled back in her chair, buying herself a moment to think. Oh, this was brilliant. Fox had listened when she’d mentioned that she and Ontari together could control the house after her graduation. Seeming to publicly seek out her blessing as the current power in the house was a clever move. It was a good opening maneuver and would bring credibility to their alliance. “I would hope that those who come after me in leading this house would pursue further integration amongst the other houses.” 

Fox spoke up from next to Ontari. “Why further integration? Is not our current amount of mixing… enough?” 

“For too long our house has been maligned and isolated due to the actions of a minority of bullies. By being accepted by others, we gain opportunities to not only protect ourselves but to build alliances. You catch more nifflers with gold than with copper. As distasteful as those of lesser blood may be, that does not mean they cannot be of some value.” 

“Is that why you are sponsoring Reyes?” Ontari asked, looking unconvinced.

“Exactly, she may be of regrettable bloodlines but she is smart. I’ll make a profit from her ideas so long as she remains in the Magical world. Which, if she’s successful, should be for some years.” Clarke explained, not that it was needed. Raven’s humiliation of every other student in every subject at exams was explanation enough. 

Fox spoke slowly, seeming to pick her words carefully. “You believe there will be further opportunities in doing this? Outside of Hogwarts I mean?” 

“Of course, looking for promise and networking now can only help in later years.” Clarke said firmly. “Speaking of which, if you two would please double check the list of who in our house are scheduled for the tutoring program this week, I would be grateful.” 

“Of course, we’d be happy to help a friend.” Fox said with a twinkle in her eye. 

“Good, I really do have to finish this essay tonight.” She hoped they got the incredibly not subtle hint to leave her alone. 

They seemed to get it. Ontari summoned the list from the bulletin board and the two started arguing in low hisses while trying to smile at each other. Clarke would normally have to resist laughing at such a display, but she was so tired it was just a relief to be able to turn back to her essay. She wasn’t sure how long it took for her to finish writing but her pen finally came away from the paper and she sighed in relief. Carefully, she dried the ink before storing all of her things back in her bag. Standing, she gave a small dip of her head to Fox and Ontari before heading heavy footed up the stairs to her room. She dropped her bag on the floor, then just face planted on the bed. Clarke was so exhausted she was asleep before she even hit the bed.


	3. Chapter 3

Lexa stared at the giant painted head of a ram. Turning to face her partner, Atohl, she spoke. “Any theories rookie?” 

The large bearded man was just staring at the black paint decorating the wall of a small inn in the village of Godric's Hallow. “That they’re insane? The paperwork is going to be a bitch.” 

“Obviously.” Lexa glared at the thing. Ever since the damn radio address, grafitti like this had been popping up all over magical Britain. She’d even had to deal with a paranoid and scared farmer who had asked the aurors to check out his sheep, who he thought were acting suspiciously. What sort of name was ‘Respect All Magical Sentients?’ Of course, she agreed with the sentiments, but really? She rolled her shoulders. “I’m going to see if I can pick up a scent. There’s less people in the area so I might get lucky.” 

“Scent?” He asked, looking at her in confusion. 

She rolled her eyes. “Scent rookie. You didn’t read my file when you got assigned to me did you?” 

“No?” He looked distinctly sheepish. 

She smiled widely, this was one of the benefits of this particular brand of magic. Looking inwards, she felt the familiar magic shiver within her. Then, with an ache that felt similar to stretching her muscles, her form shifted. Falling down onto all fours, she shook out her fur. Glancing up, she felt her tongue loll out of her mouth at the flabbergasted expression on Atohl’s face. Returning her attention to the wall, she began to sniff the area.

“You’re a wolf!” Atohl yelped. 

Lexa ignored him as she tried to parse out the various scents. She could smell numerous people who’d been in the area but that wasn’t what she was scenting for. Then, there it was. A scent stronger than the others, showing that whoever had made it had lingered here. Tilting her head, she pressed her nose closer to the ground. It was the scent of a house elf. Sniffing, she followed the scent trail around the building to a small blind spot where it ended. Lifting her head, she trotted back towards her partner returning to her human form as she went. As she straightened upright, she spoke. “I think our vandal is a house elf.” 

Atohl just gaped at her. 

She sighed, “Oh, close your mouth Atohl.” 

“Right…” He shook himself. “We’re not going to talk about the fact that you can turn into a wolf?” 

“I filled out all the paperwork, I’m registered and legal, thank you very much. If you’d read my file like a competent auror, you’d have known that. Moreover, you should know the list of every legal animagus regardless.” She scolded him. Drat, why did she always get the useless ones to work with? 

He hunched at the reprimand. Muttering under his breath about hard ass trainers, he quickly cleared his throat. “So a house elf? What’s a house elf doing trying to overthrow the government?” 

“Well, there isn’t exactly a future for house elves that have been given clothes. This one probably fell in with some radicals searching for a bond and here we are. It’s clever though.” She frowned, clasping her hands behind her back. “It will make it harder to catch them.” 

“We have to make a direct report to Nia, don’t we?” he sounded intimidated at the prospect. 

She glared at him. “You’re an auror, grow a backbone or I’ll find some skele-grow for you and make you one.” 

Not bothering to listen to his reply, she apparated back to the ministry knowing he’d follow her. She walked through the office, sweeping past the aurors at their desks and towards Nia’s office. Making sure her face was blank, she knocked on the door. 

“Come in.” 

She walked in with Atohl hot on her heels. Coming to a stop, she clasped her hands behind her back and kept herself under complete control. “We’ve found a lead on the anti-government graffiti.” 

Nia looked surprised. “Finally doing something of use Trikru? Well out with it, what did you find?” 

“The latest one was in a less populated area. I ascertained that the only scent strong enough to indicate someone had lingered in the area belonged to a house elf.” Lexa stared just past Nia’s right ear. She didn’t want the anger she felt towards the woman to show in her eyes. That, and it was just good sense not to meet the eyes of someone you didn’t trust. Mind magic was a tricky field.

Nia frowned. “Fill out your reports and see to it that everyone is informed we’re looking for a renegade house elf. We will focus our efforts on finding and identifying the house elf involved.” 

“Ma’am.” Lexa spoke, regretting what she was about to say already. “There’s no way that it’s an elf alone. We need to continue looking for an organization. Narrowing our search means that we will miss potential leads.” 

“I’m sorry, are you in charge here?” Nia asked. She kept going before Lexa could reply. “No, you’re not. I am. What we need to do is focus on the leads we have. Besides, elves without a master are a tricky species and more than a bit touched in the head. For all we know, the elf could be the only one behind all this. They have strange magic we don’t fully understand. They could’ve changed their voice for the broadcast. Or forced some muggle to follow a script. While I can see how someone of your… background may want this to be rebels causing chaos wherever they go, that doesn’t mean it is. Most people trust their government after all and those who don’t know better than to go against the Ministry.” 

Lexa felt her eye twitch. “Yes ma’am.” 

Nia made a shooing motion with her hand. “Now, get out of here.” 

Turning on her heel, Lexa marched out and headed straight for her desk. Closing her eyes, she resisted the urge to scream. It was a near thing as her hands clenched on the back of her chair. 

“So…” Atohl spoke hesitantly. “You’re not going to pay any attention to Nia’s directions to narrow our focus. We’re going to continue to investigate the RAMS revolt like it’s an organized revolt and not just the work of a disgruntled house elf?” 

“Yes.” She grit out between her teeth. Opening her eyes, she looked over at him. “We do our duty and we protect the citizens of our nation.” 

Anya let out a laugh from her neighboring desk. “Merlin, it’s not as serious as all that, is it?” 

“A crackdown on an out of control, immature rebellion can ruin the lives of plenty of innocent people.” Lexa glared at her. “Nia’s decided that since an elf is involved with the RAMS that we should focus exclusively on the elf. After all, it’s not impossible that an elf could be behind it all, just very unlikely.” Lexa put an extra emphasis on the ‘very’.

“Ah.” Anya winced. “Well, make sure you’re not the one who gets the blame when things go sideways.” 

“Of course,” Lexa pulled out her chair dropping down and pulling out an incident report. Dipping her quill in the ink pot, she began to fill out the form. She was going to make sure she didn’t go down when the RAMS did something that no one could attribute to the actions of a rogue house elf. No matter what Nia said, she’d eat her own wand if it was an elf acting alone. 

Anya chucked a piece of rolled up paper at her head. “Cheer up, you know Nia’s just messing with you.” 

Lexa batted the ball of paper away. “Sure, that’s great. Just setting us up to fail.” 

“We got the night off though.” Anya added grinning. “It’s been a while. We can kick back relax. You know there will be some great food at dinner.” 

Lexa rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, it will be good.” 

Atohl cocked his head to the side from where he was filling out his own paperwork. “Why do you want off shift tonight?” 

“Family dinner.” Lexa said, hoping to shut the conversation down quickly. 

He apparently didn’t pick up on her tone. “You’re an orphan. I may not have read the entire file on you but I do know that. What family are you going to have dinner with?” 

“It’s the full moon.” Anya said while pulling out a file from her desk. “Most of our relatives tend to gather for the night.” 

“Oh!” he brightened in understanding. “Why would you want to spend time with those mutts?” 

Lexa’s quill snapped in half. Looking up, she narrowed her eyes. “Atohl, I’m your training officer. You’ll want to think very carefully about what you say next. Accidents happen in the field. You wouldn’t want anything you said about my family to affect how seriously I take my job to watch your back.” 

He swallowed. “Have a good dinner...?” 

“You too Atohl… you too.” She went back to her paperwork hoping that if she ignored him, she wouldn’t have to deal with his bigotry. 

The office was filled with the sound of the scratching of quills, the occasional clearing of a throat, the rustling of documents, and drawers being opened or closed. Lexa flexed her fingers before pulling out a file on the robbery in Hogsmeade she’d been called to earlier that morning. She was just outlining the timeline of events when she heard the door open nearby. Looking up, she was surprised to see the swish of robes and golden hair of Clarke Griffin entering. Lexa carefully went back to her work but kept an eye on the newest Wizengamot member as she crossed to Nia’s office and entered. 

“Come on, let’s get some more coffee.” Anya stood and grabbed her arm, pulling her to the small kitchenette that sat in the corner of the room. Casually, she flicked her wand, putting up a low powered muffling charm. “Lexa.” 

“What do you want, Anya?” Lexa asked, yanking her arm out of Anya’s grasp. 

Anya just stared at her. “You’re an idiot. Why are you so sure that something is crooked with Griffin? Just drop it, or you’ll be out of here on your ass.” 

Ignoring Anya, she poured herself a mug of coffee from the thermos. “There’s just something that doesn’t add up with the death of Dax Trip. I’ve been looking into it and I think Dax found out that she was involved in the disappearances of Shumway and another student Atom.” 

Scoffing, Anya poured her own mug. “I’m sorry what? You think the most powerful up and coming pureblood is going around making people disappear for the hell of it.” 

“No,” Lexa leaned against the counter, watching the door to Nia’s office out of the corner of her eye. “I’m not saying she’s a psychopath or anything, but there is something going on at Hogwarts and she’s at the center of it. I read through the bills she submitted to the Wizengamot and there’s something wrong about them. It’s like they were written to purposely be as dry and boring as possible.” 

“They’re laws, of course they’re as boring as Binns.” Anya poured some creamer into her coffee. “So what, you think she’s writing boring laws to cover up murder?” 

“I don’t know,” Lexa admitted. Grimacing, she breathed out, trying to collect herself. “I know there’s not much to go on, I just know she’s up to something and I am going to find out what.” 

“I thought we talked about not obsessing?” Anya looked at her in concern. “You have no evidence.” She held up her hand. “Fine, very little evidence of wrong doing and what you have is circumstantial at best.” 

Lexa loosened and considered how to word why this particular case was driving her crazy. “Anya, it’s not just that she’s done something wrong. How many cases have we been ordered off of because a favor got called in with Nia? What bothers me is that she’s not just getting away with it, she’s getting away with it without anyone knowing she’s getting away with something. Most of the buffoons are only out of Azkaban because of money and power. They may get away with it but their crimes are known. With her, it’s different. Her blood status may have helped but she manipulated the situation on her own. She did it so skillfully that no one even suspects wrongdoing. People think better of her when they hear of it. They give her sympathy for being assaulted by the brutish Dax and admiration for handling it so well. I think she could be legitimately dangerous. She is intelligent and knows how to use it. Those are the most dangerous sorts of people.” 

Flicking her wand to remove the silencing barrier, Anya shook her head. As she walked back to her desk she threw over her shoulder, “You’re such a Ravenclaw, I still think the sorting hat mis-sorted you.” She said with an eye roll. “Lexa, you need to ask her out like a normal person or drop it. Crushing on a Wizengamot member is a sign of good taste but mild insanity.” 

Blushing slightly, Lexa grabbed her coffee and headed back to her desk as well. Ignoring her co-workers, who were smirking at her. Blasted Anya, this was a serious matter not a joke. Even if she’d given her an excuse to be seen paying attention to Griffin. “You’re going to regret that.” She muttered as she sat down. 

Anya snorted. “No, I’m not.” 

____________________________________________________________________________

Lexa dropped her heavy auror coat over the back of a chair while loosening her tie. Pulling it off from around her neck, she began to unbutton her vest. Breathing easy for the first time all day, she walked to her closet, pulled it open, and considered her upcoming evening. With quick hands, she pulled out her old quidditch sweater in the yellow and black of Hufflepuff. Closing her closet, she moved to her drawers and pulled out a pair of muggle jeans and a t-shirt. It was freeing to finish changing out of her work clothing and into clothes that she liked. Rolling her neck, she pulled her sweater on over her head. Slipping her wand up her sleeve, she headed over to the small kitchen and put the kettle on the burner. While waiting for it to boil, she closed her eyes and just relaxed. It had been a long day. 

Kicking off from the counter, she walked to the old wireless settled proudly on the table and turned it on. It took some tuning, but she got some music playing before heading back to the kitchen and put some tea leaves into the pot. She was just pouring the water in when Lincoln came stumbling out of the fireplace. 

“Sweet Merlin, it doesn’t look like a crime scene!” he exclaimed.

“Thanks.” She said dryly while pivoting and setting the pot down on the table. Slipping her wand out, she quickly floated three tea mugs over onto the table. 

He rubbed the back of his head while dropping down into one of the three chairs around her kitchen table. “Sorry, I haven’t seen the place this clean in a long time. It’s a good thing.” Smiling softly at her, he reached out and gripped her hand. 

Nodding in acknowledgment, she settled down in the chair across from him. “So, how’d the Diagon Alley post go today?” 

“Tense.” He crossed his arms frowning. “The Prophet isn’t helping with its cries for the rebels to be caught and punished. I heard Nia made you make it auror common knowledge the whole thing was done by a house elf?” 

“She did it just to spite me.” She wrapped her fingers around the edge of the table. “She’s so petty.” 

“I hear that Godric’s Hollow was exciting for once?” trying to change the topic. 

She nodded before reaching out and pouring the tea into their two mugs. “I spent most of the day in Hogsmeade actually. Just some standard misdemeanors.” 

“No fun stories?” He grinned mischievously, “I heard from a little birdie that there was a foot chase.” 

Lexa glared. “I’ll kill her.” 

“Come on, you have to share. The only good part of this job is the humiliating stories,” he wheedled. 

He had a point. Being the glorified toadies and gophers of a corrupt government she’d like to see burning in ashes was not a great day job. “You have to tell me what happened on Anya’s arrest in Knockturn that left her green for a week.” 

Lincoln tilted his head in consideration. “Done.” 

“First off then, know that it was all Atohl’s fault.” 

“Of course,” He nodded solemnly. 

A loud crack interrupted them as Anya finally arrived through the fireplace. “Tea time?” 

“Anya, nice of you to make it.” Lexa poured tea into the third mug. It was already set with the exact amount of sugar she knew her cousin liked. 

“You guys are lame.” She dropped down, pulling her mug towards her.

Lexa sipped from her mug and rolled her eyes. “Right, don’t pretend. You like tea too, or you wouldn’t join us.” 

Slipping her hand into her coat, Anya pulled out a flask splashed something into her tea. “I have to put the alcohol in something. Gotta brace ourselves for dinner.” She held out the flask.

Lincoln held his mug out accepting a liberal splash. He shrugged at the dirty look Lexa was giving him. “We haven’t been home in six months.” 

Lexa paused, thinking of the conversation she knew was coming with Titus and Indra. She held her mug out, accepting the splash of alcohol and knowing look Anya was giving her. “We stick together, insist on leaving early for the run.” 

“No shit.” Anya kicked back in her chair. “You know Titus, Indra, and Gustus will wanna talk to you though.” 

She considered the vague suspicions she had about Griffin. “I have things to talk to them about as well this time.” 

“Please not your suspicions. Your creepy serial killer wall is down let’s not go backwards.” Anya leaned in her face turning serious. “You need to let this go. Griffin is a spoiled, entitled princess. Sure, she may be getting away with something a muggleborn wouldn’t, but she’s little fish. Someday, if we manage to truly change this forsaken government, we can do something about people like her. Still, going after someone like her right now is suicide. You need to drop it before you get burned.” 

“I know, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” Lexa said grudgingly. “Besides, we’re aurors! We have a duty to do the best we can by the people we are sworn to protect. I’m not sure I’ve done the best I can for Dax.” 

“Have you done the best you could for Griffin? It sounds like Dax was persistently bullying her and other students. He was out of control. You saw it for yourself. Admit it, if Griffin was just another student, you would have let this case go a long time ago.” Lincoln said calmly. “Right now, there is only so much we can do. Anya is right, it does no one any good for you to make an enemy of someone with as much standing as Griffin.” 

Lexa stood up abruptly. “Come on, we don’t want to be late.” 

Anya downed her tea in one large gulp. “Fine, but we’re talking more about this after we get back from the run. You can share your suspicions with Indra and Titus but there are other fish in the sea and we’ve got bigger problems to deal with than pureblood drama.” 

She ignored her friend as she grabbed some floo powder. Lincoln and Anya could take care of the tea mugs if they were going to be ridiculous. Tossing it into the fire, she called out, “Trikru Manor.” 

Stepping out of the other end of the tumbling ride, she stared at her old family home. She barely remembered living in it as a small child. It was an echo of itself. It was damp, claw marks gouging into the walls, the portraits in tatters from spell fire, dust and grime from disuse hiding the floor and walls. Ignoring the atmosphere, she dusted the soot off of her sweater. 

“Creepy as always.” Anya said as she straightened after tumbling out of the fireplace. 

“Hmmm.” Lexa swept through the damp hallway towards the kitchens. Opening the great oak door, she stepped into the warm and brightly lit room. “Gustus.” 

She breathed out in relief as she was wrapped up in a great hug. Burying her face into his chest, she held him back just as tight. She’d missed her father figure. He chuckled deep in his chest. “It’s been too long.”

“Yes, yes, set her down before you suffocate her.” Indra instructed seriously from where she was standing a few feet away. 

Gustus released her, with a wink, he stepped forward yanking Lincoln and Anya into far too tight hugs as well. “It’s good to see you all back again.” 

“Come on and eat with us, we’ve mostly been waiting.” Roan hollered from where he was seated. 

Laughing, they trooped the rest of the way into the dining room, sitting down at the large table. Over forty people were gathered, already digging into the meal prepared for them. Lexa smiled as she took in the atmosphere of the pack. This was home. Anya dropped down beside her before snarking at Roan across the table. “Your mother is a bitch.” 

He laughed, “Better you have to deal with her than me. If I’d become an auror like my mother planned for me, I would have to be a boot licker like you. Better a werewolf than a toady any day.” 

“At least I don’t have fleas.” Anya declared while grabbing a dinner roll out of the basket. 

There were hoots at that as Anya got a few hard pats on the back. Roan caught Lexa’s eye. “This family is full of fleas. Even little Lexa here has to deal with them” He winked at Lexa. 

She raised her brows at him. “I happen to stay clean thank you very much. If you have fleas it’s your own damn fault. Don’t go lumping us all in with you. Do we need to give you a flea bath before the moon rises?” 

Laughter spread again. Lexa smiled as she piled her plate with food while Roan and Anya continued to bicker playfully. It was good to see Roan so free. At first, she had blamed him for what Nia had done to her family and her lover but in order to bring peace among the packs she had to look beyond that. 

Roan had been turned by a werewolf seeking vengeance for the sins of his mother. Of course, she had promptly disowned him. A pack had taken him in that had little to no connections to the rebellion that his mother had been a part of stomping. He eventually became a powerful force among the packs on his own merit. It was only through him and his alliance with the Trikru pack that the agreement between the separate packs stood. She looked up and caught Titus staring at her. Hiding her wince, she nodded, “Titus.” 

“Lexa, you’ve been avoiding my owls.” He said, his voice rife with disapproval. 

She stabbed her fork into her meat with a bit of venom. “I’ve been busy. Nia has everything I do under watch, you know that. Besides, now that the packs are interconnected thanks to the alliance Roan helped broker, there is little for me to do save work my way up the ranks of the aurors.” 

Titus looked pained. “Of course, your accomplishment in connecting our families pack to the others does you credit, as does the work you do at the Ministry. However, your family position means that you cannot ignore the happenings of the Wizengamot.” 

“The Trikru family lost their seat after the rebellion was ended.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “Until I can gain enough position within the Ministry, they will not consider reinstating my family. Therefore, it is a waste of my time to read every bill that goes through.” 

Indra broke in before she and Titus could devolve into one of their old arguments on the matter. “There has been less move to further restrict the rights of muggleborns and those with creature blood in the last month. With the budget being reviewed, the Wizengamot has been spending all it’s additional time on that Griffin girl’s proposals.” The dislike was clear in Indra’s voice. 

Lexa’s ears perked up at the mention of Griffin. “What has Griffin been doing? She was down at Nia’s office today.” 

Gustus grunted. “She’s a snake. Been making all sorts of alliances with the worst sorts of people. She’s a close family friend of Dante Wallace’s. If that latest bill of the Traditionalists goes through, we’ll have to be careful. That monster son of his might be given leeway to ‘observe’ our magical creatures.” 

“Do you think it will pass?” Lexa asked frowning. She’d heard of the bill but hadn’t realized it was likely to pass. With the Reformist party firmly against it, and the Purists generally against the French there shouldn’t have been a majority to get it through. 

Titus replied. “I wouldn’t have thought so, but that girl Griffin, she’s been having lunch with the Purist party leaders recently. She came out then, claiming to now be in support of the bill. I think she’s negotiating a compromise between the two parties. If the Purists go for it, it’ll pass.” 

Lexa clenched her jaw and breathed out through her nose. “What do we need to do to protect ourselves if it passes?” 

“If it passes as it is, we would need to stay on private property at all times. At least any of us with the curse.” Indra looked furious. “Though, I guess we can fix up the house some…” 

“Of course,” Lexa spoke quickly. “If the property can be used in any way by the packs you know it is open to them.” 

Gustus nodded. “We know, but we’re in dark times and everyone is scared. With that new RAMS movement, we don’t know if there will be another crackdown.” 

____________________________________________________________________________

Lexa was helping with the dishes when Gustus stepped next to her to help her with the drying. There was something therapeutic about doing the simple chore by hand instead of by magic. “Want to tell me what’s bothering you?” 

She groaned. “Anya told you?” 

“Of course,” He began to scrub at a large frying pan with his washcloth. 

Considering her words, she gave it a while to mull over her reply. “I don’t have much proof, but I know something rotten is happening and Griffin is at the center of it.” 

He made a gruff noise of assent. “Well, I’ve always told you to trust your instincts. Even before half the family ended up as werewolves. Still, you have to be careful when you’re going after someone like her. What’s your latest lead?” 

She smiled at her uncle's belief that she wasn’t crazy, or that she should drop it even if she was right. “Dax accused her with having something to do with Professor Shumway’s disappearance at the winter ball. He was drunk, and clearly unhinged but I’ve been looking into it. I can’t find any trace that Shumway has written a single letter or been seen anywhere since he left Hogwarts. That’s not normal.” 

“So, you track down Shumway and you might find something,” Gustus concluded. “Just be careful. I may not know this girl well, but if she’s anything like her mother she’s slippery as they come.” 

“Of course,” Lexa flicked some water at him. “I’m not completely ridiculous.” 

“Good. Now come on let’s get going. I’m leaving before the moon rise. Will you be staying?” He asked as he stepped away from the dishes. 

Lexa dried her hands off before flicking her wand, charming the dishes to finish drying themselves. “I’ll be staying, I haven’t stretched my legs with the pack in a while.” 

“Be careful.” He slapped her back. “I know you’re safe from the curse in your other form, but with this many wolves in one place things still have a tendency to go wrong.” 

“Lincoln and Anya will be here as well.” She squeezed his forearm. “I’ll be safe, as will they. We used to run with the pack often over breaks after we successfully became anamagi.” 

Gustus shook his head. “Aden is going to demand to come along with you lot this summer. He’s already found his form. He’s halfway to being able to change back and forth without help.” 

“He makes a very handsome bobcat.” Lexa said smiling at the prospect of her youngest cousin joining them for runs. 

“You all and your animagus forms. Well, at least yours is legal unlike the rest of them. I still think Anya and Lincoln should register even if they would prefer to keep it an ace in the hole.” He pulled her into a hug. “Stay safe, and don’t listen to Titus. He’s a stuffed up old buffoon too attached to the way things were.” 

“Thank you.” She hugged him tightly. 

He chuckled before disappearing with a crack. Lexa made her way up and out onto the grass where everyone else was sitting out looking up at the sky waiting. She headed towards Anya and Lincoln who were chatting quietly. “Are we changing now or after the moon rise?” 

“Just waiting for you.” Anya said, stepping back and cracking her neck. “Figured we could do a quick circuit to get readjusted to our forms before they all start changing.” 

She nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” Dropping down, she felt the warm sensation as her paws hit the ground. Stretching out, she shook out her fur. She loved being a wolf. Looking over her shoulder, she watched as Lincoln’s form melded into that of a large bear. His large paws hitting the ground with soft thuds. Anya jumped as her form melted into that of a falcon. She was flying the moment the change completed. 

Smiling widely, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, Lexa took off at a nice trot. Lincoln close behind her, a solid wall of fur and safety, Anya circling high above their heads. They moved around the wide grassy area that had once been part of her family's lands about their home. She barely remembered what it had looked like then, whole and beautiful. Looking up at the sky, she saw the moon finally rising. Coming to a stop, she threw her head back and howled while behind her she could hear the sounds of the transformation beginning for the pack.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are so sorry it took this long.

Bellamy decided that he was insane. Apparently, it was contagious and Clarke had finally passed it on to him. Was this his last moment of self-awareness? Why had they thought that turning a group of angry school children into an actual army was a good idea? There was nothing about it that was a good idea. 

He waved his wand shooting a stream of water at his smoking pants leg. Looking over his shoulder, he glared at the guilty looking fifth year Hufflepuff who’d nicked him with an incendio, he sighed. “Go work with Professor Miller on aim.” 

The kid squeaked before hurrying over to the professor. Bellamy rolled his eyes and turned back to Thalia. “So you were saying dry runs?” 

The Slytherin girl raised a brow at him, it was creepy how she almost seemed to channel Clarke. Maybe they taught a class on appearing unruffled and disdainful in Slytherin. “We can’t just start off everyone with the parade. Even our best teams only have experience in a school setting. They wouldn’t last two minutes against an auror, let alone a team of them. What we need are dry runs to get them working as a single unit.” 

“Shouldn’t we be focusing on getting them trained magically?” Bellamy ran a hand through his hair in frustration. If he went through with her idea, he’d be putting his people at risk earlier than planned. 

“The parade will be a disaster if we don’t have teams capable of pulling it off in a professional manner. Which means we need to do dry runs. Better we make mistakes on small things than something that requires as much precision as the parade.” Thalia crossed her arms daring him to disagree. 

He glanced at the admittedly impressive spell work going on around the room. All the students fifth year and up were dueling and running drills across the entire space. Sure, some spells were missing their targets, like the incendio that had nearly set his robes on fire. Still, it was a massive amount of progress. Especially considering they were school children being tutored mostly by other school children. The students were not only learning new spells and magic but how to use them to fight. Still, he could understand the point Thalia was making. No matter how much you practiced or planned, things had a way of going wrong when you actually tried it in the real world. Nothing could replace real world experience. He’d learned that from pranks. “The problem is, we don’t have a lot of time or resources to plan and prepare dry runs. The research and development teams are stretched thin trying to enchant the sheets already.” 

“We don’t need something big. Even just taking over some of Tris’ graffiti runs would be a good place to start. We’re planning on starting too big. Doing a few small things will help us prepare and work out any issues before we try something big. Of course, it will require planning, and coordination with Tris.” Thalia replied, clearly already having a plan formed. 

He knew she had a point. “We’d have to pull the prof in for a meeting to plan it.” 

“That would work, Octavia and I can get our two top strike teams ready for a simple run like that in two days.” Thalia nodded looking pleased with herself. 

Bellamy tapped his wand against his leg as he considered what would need to be done. “It wouldn’t hurt to do a few things around the school as well. A couple of cleverly planned pranks could provide some practical experience of some necessary skills. We could practice espionage on targets by following around students and learning their routines. Pulling pranks would be a good way to learn how to not get caught.” Bellamy paused his mind lingering on all sorts of ideas for pranks. He forced himself to focus back in on the conversation. “I’ll bring up the idea of practice runs for missions at the next leadership meeting. However, there’s no need to wait on preparation for taking over a few of Tris’ jobs. As head of the strike teams I expect you to do most of the organization for that yourself.”

“Got it,” Thalia grinned. “You won’t interfere if I utilize Octavia in the planning stages?” 

“Seventh years are the only ones eligible for the actual strike.” Bellamy said immediately. He was not compromising on that and if he knew his sister at all she would try and sneak her way into the action. 

Thalia rolled her eyes. “We already voted and approved age restrictions for field missions. You don’t need to tell me. All sixth-year participants in the strike teams won’t be utilized till next year. I have the sixth years and under students assigned to me working on separate teams that focus more on difficult spells and strategies that require time and familiarity to do right. The seventh years are getting more intense and rushed training.”

“Fine, just watch out for Octavia, she’ll try to sneak her way into a more active role if you let her.” Bellamy wasn’t going to apologize for his paranoia, it was O, she’d already tried to convince the division heads to get him to make an exception on the age restriction for her. “You’ll need to requisition the charmed paint, probably donate one of your people to development for a day in exchange for it. I’ll want a map, timetable, escape route, disguises, and plan of attack written up and submitted to the next meeting, which is tomorrow. If you want to stick fliers up in addition to the graffiti, that might be a good idea. Oh, and I’ll want a list of who exactly is going on this mission. If it goes well we can discuss doing more in future.”

“I can do that. Is there anything else you wanted to talk with me about? Cause if not, I’ve got a mountain of things to get done if I’m going to be ready for the meeting and get all my homework done.” Thalia said, clearly not looking forward to adding so much work to an already full schedule.

“The only other thing I wanted to bring up with you was the proposal from Matthew.” Bellamy said. 

“Which one was that?” Thalia’s eyebrows furrowed, her mouth thinning. 

He raised his hand to about his eye level. “Matthew is about this high and uses too much hair gel. He’s a fifth year Gryffindor with broad shoulders. He made a suggestion about learning some muggle fighting methods.” 

“Oh that’s right, he mentioned something about boxing right?” Her eyes lit up in understanding. “I wasn’t actually sure what to do with that one. Is muggle fighting worth adding to our training? It seems… crude?” There was no hiding the dubious sound to her voice, sarcasm just a sconce away. 

Bellamy sighed. Even Thalia, who was pretty open-minded for a pureblood, could be dismissive of muggle things. “Boxing would be a good addition to our teams. If anyone is disarmed they’d still be able to defend themselves, and at the least it should help with dodging.” 

Thalia gave a hesitant nod. “Fine, I’ll conference with him on it after curfew then.” 

“Is there anything else with the strike team I need to know about before the meeting?” He slipped his wand back up his sleeve. After he finished this short conference with Thalia, he needed to talk to Raven about the progress with those crates. Of course, then he needed to pull Miller out of his enchantment insanity long enough to stuff some dinner down his throat. Monty and Jasper needed to get him a list of new supplies for him to owl to Murphy after that. It was exhausting just thinking about it, and he’d still have to complete his homework after that. 

Thalia seemed to miss, or more likely ignored, his stress and exhaustion as she decided to keep talking. “Now that you mention it, we should look into getting wand-holders for everyone in the strike team that are enchanted against disarmament and summoning. Then, we’ll need to start recording auror response times, but that can be discussed at the next meeting. The only other thing I have to suggest is that you find a Ravenclaw other than Raven and appoint them somewhere fairly high in one of the divisions. We’ve got plenty of Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Slytherin house members in leadership, but some additional Ravenclaws would be beneficial.” 

“Why?” He frowned considering the suggestion. “The Ravenclaws have been fine with working in research and development under Raven, Monty, and Miller.” 

The girl rolled her eyes. “Yes, they’re fine with it because we’ve given them their passion. Still, we don’t want to lose voices of reason in our leadership meetings. The whole point of unity is that it makes us stronger, let’s not squander that.” She gave a sly grin at him. “Not to mention, it will help with recruiting graduated Ravenclaws in society.” 

“You…” He let out a huff. “Fine, it’s your idea so you pull a couple of names and suggestions for where they could step up and start leading. Though honestly they’d probably be better off in Clarke’s legal team unless we get enough recruits to expand research and development.” 

Thalia made a slight wince at the work. “Fine, I can do that. Maybe I’ll delegate some of this to Octavia. If I phrase it right, I bet I could trick her into doing the work and if she’s busy she’ll have less time to bug me.” She seemed to get lost in thought for a second. “Anyway, I believe we’re good. You need to work on your bone breaking curse though. If you hit a person with as much power as you use on the practice dummies now, you won’t just shatter someone’s arm or leg, you’ll kill them.” 

He grimaced at the reminder he was still overpowering his spells, especially curses. “Just see to your division and be ready for our next leadership meeting.” 

____________________________________________________________________________

Bellamy was running on fumes, but one look at Clarke prevented him from asking for her assistance with his side of things. She looked like a light breeze would blow her over and was clutching a cup of coffee like it was her soul. He wasn’t getting between that witch and her caffeine fix for anything. Apparently, running a political revolution, doing schoolwork, Headgirl stuff, tutoring her fellow students, and holding a political office was too much for even Clarke. He only grumbled slightly at the fact that he had to run an underground revolution, do his school work, and that most of the rebellions interactions with the tutoring program had fallen on his shoulders. Fortunately, he wasn’t above making Finn do his work for him. “Collins!” 

The boy turned, face set in challenge. “Blake.” 

He narrowed his eyes at Finn’s need to challenge him at every turn. “I need you to find a replacement for myself and Octavia for the second half of tutoring tonight.” 

Finn puffed up indignantly. “You can’t just drop out last minute like this. Thalia already reserved the night off, and Clarke has a meeting outside of Hogwarts tonight.” 

“Why in magic’s name do you know she has a meeting tonight?” Bellamy glared, the boys unrelenting pursuit of Clarke had stopped being amusing a while ago. He was honestly surprised that Clarke hadn’t destroyed him yet. 

“Because I care about her and she’s running herself ragged. Not that it’s any of your business. I thought you hated all the ‘slimy Slytherins’.” He swiped his hair behind an ear. 

He had to resist his impulse to take out his wand. “I care because you’re practically her stalker and I take a dim view on pressuring girls.” Crossing his arms, he stepped into Finn’s personal space. “And for your information, I don't hate all Slytherins, I hate bullies most of whom in my experience have been from Slytherin. There’s a difference. Now, all I need from you is a replacement for me and Octavia. Do you understand?” 

Finn didn’t give an inch as he met his glare. “I got it. Just know that if you cancel again you’re out.” Turning on his heel he strode off dramatically.

Clenching his fists at Finn’s arrogance, Bellamy took a deep breath and reminded himself that at least Finn wasn't part of the rebellion. Glowering at his back, Bellamy shifted his book bag to his other shoulder and headed for his next class. It didn’t help his mood that it was potions. At least, there was the nice bonus that he didn’t have to worry about overpowering any spells, just accidently blowing up a cauldron or two. He did not have time for detention. He would just have to triple check the directions and sit as close to Raven as possible. He’d already found being within a three-seat radius of Raven improved his grades by an entire letter. The girl was magic.

____________________________________________________________________________

“Escaping aurors is no easy task. They have methods of tracking floo travel and apparition that have collared many of the unwary.” Professor Miller lectured the group of division leaders gathered in the Room of Requirement.

“How do they do that? It’s not like there is a trail for them to follow.” Harper asked, her curiosity peaked.

“Ah, but there is. Magic leaves a trail of its own that anyone sufficiently trained can follow. The Floo Network does not so much use the magic of the user but the magic of the rune stones set up all around the United Kingdom. Each rune stone has a magical signature and using a magical artifact that detects and identifies the signatures, a properly trained wizard can figure out your destination. It is a process similar to how muggle telephones are traced.” The professor explained.

“Telephones are tracked by figuring out which towers the phone is pinging and how long it is taking for the phone to do so and then triangulating using that information. Are you saying that someone created an artifact that does something similar with rune stones?” Raven questioned, obviously intrigued by the process.

“In essence, yes. Each floo uses a different combination of rune stones at varying degrees of power creating a unique magical signature. That unique signature is recorded by the Ministry on the creation of the floo. Even if someone manages to create a new floo and connect it to the network without going through the Ministry, they can still triangulate the position based off its signature, it’s just more work. Each floo has a small buffer containing the signatures of its most recent transports the artifact can access. A trained auror can use the artifact to measure the combined floo signatures used to reach a destination. So it can be used both to identify a known floo signature and extrapolate the location of an unknown one.” Professor Miller’s response was way beyond Bellamy’s comprehension but Raven nodded along as if it made sense.

“What about the apparating? How do they track that?” Bellamy asked, hoping to get the discussion back on point. 

“Apparition is both simpler and harder to track. Unlike the Floo Network, it depends entirely on the magic of the person performing the apparition. That means that it does not have any of the artificial stability that the runic ward stones bring to the magic of floo travel. It is messier magic by far, which means there is far more magic left behind, particularly by those unpracticed or inexperienced with the spell. However, the more wild nature of this magic makes it harder to track. The only real way to do it is by using the magic and intent left behind to follow the trail. I don’t quite know how to explain it but the intent that guides a spell kind of contaminates the magic left behind and if you allow that intent to guide your own apparition you can follow the trail of an apparition.” Professor Miller replied.

“We don’t have enough members capable of apparition as it is. There’s no way we have anyone experienced enough not to leave an obvious trail for the aurors to follow. Are there any ways to hide or confuse the trail?” Bellamy asked, hoping desperately that there was a simple way to circumvent the aurors that he was not seeing.

“Of course there are, and if you thought about it for more than a minute I’m sure you could come up with a fair few yourself. The most obvious and successful way is to confuse your trail through obscurity. If you use highly trafficked areas that are commonly used as either common apparition spots or public floos, the magical signature will be muddied and even if it wasn’t, they would have a hard time figuring out which trail to follow. Still, that’s not always an option so you are going to want to come up with some other methods, but for the graffiti and flyer runs you shouldn’t need anything too complex.” Professor Miller explained.

“Alright, if that’s the case then I’ll want a member of the strike team and a member of the research and development team to work with Professor Miller on other ways to obscure our trails. We’ll need them for the parade.” Bellamy ordered, glancing at Raven and Thalia. Raven glared but they both nodded in acknowledgement of his order. 

“Another important thing to keep track of is how much time you have to operate with before you have to get out of there. So, I would suggest keeping an eye on the aurors and seeing how quickly they can get to the scene of an incident. It will give you an idea of how much time you have once an auror is alerted to your presence.” Professor Miller pointed out to the group.

Bellamy acknowledged his point and turned to Tris. “Tris, if you weren’t having to do all of the graffiti and flyer runs would you be able to start timing auror response time?”

The elf’s delicate ears twitched. “Yes, I can be doing that.” 

Bellamy cleared his throat. “It’ll be dangerous, more dangerous than the graffiti and flier runs. With those you’re long gone before the aurors arrive. This will mean you have to stay hidden and watch them without them catching on to you.” 

“I am very good at staying hidden.” The elf tilted her head up in pride. 

“Alright then.” He smiled at the elf, giving her nod of acceptance. “Just be careful, you’re a valuable member of the rebellion.” 

Tris beamed, seeming to grow two inches at the praise and acknowledgement. 

“I talked to Matthew and we’ll be starting on boxing training for the strike teams two nights a week. That brings up our strike team training to six days a week.” Thalia explained. 

“Okay, we’ve talked about some rebellion sanctioned pranking as dry runs, the progress of the parade preparations, and approved graffiti and poster runs done by the older strike teams. I think that’s everything we need to go over as a larger group. Thalia, Tris, Octavia, and Professor Miller please stay behind so that we can discuss the first student led graffiti run in more detail.” Bellamy sighed as he looked around the table and waited for those not called on to stay to exit the room. Once they were alone, Thalia dropped a stack of parchment in front of her and began passing around a packet to each person at the table. “This is my proposal for our first graffiti run.” 

After briefly looking through the packet presented to him, he addressed the professor. “Professor, do you have any reservations with the plan?” 

The man paged through the proposal. “The team will have to be careful. The timeline is in some ways less than ideal. Sure, there won’t be anyone around to witness your acts of vandalism at that time of night but if you get caught in the act there won’t be enough public traffic around to disguise your escape.” 

“The question is do we think it’s more important to have an easy escape if caught or be much less likely to be caught in the first place?” Thalia asked. 

“What if we could do both?” Bellamy questioned, an idea forming in his mind. “I’m sure I could convince Murphy to have a few of his contacts make a bit of a ruckus at a local bar. They could provide a bit of a distraction for any aurors in the area while the team finishes the job.”

Thalia grimaced. “That might work once but it is certainly not something we can do every time without it getting suspicious. We’ll need to come up with something we can use more consistently.” 

“But it would still work for this first run and buy us some time to think up some better methods,” Bellamy persisted. “Why did you choose these particular members for the strike team?” 

Octavia grinned flipping to the team list. “Cause until I’m old enough that you’ll let me participate, they’re the best we have. These four will be the leaders of future strike teams so they need all the experience they can get. This will give the leaders a chance to get their feat wet before their expected to lead a team. So the first strike team will be Bryan, Jones, Monroe, and Thalia. Thalia will be working as point witch. Monroe will be the look out and rear guard. Bryan and Jones will do the painting. They should be in and out in three minutes.” 

Tris raised her tiny hand. “And I will be hiding in a shop on an errand.” 

“Exactly.” Thalia looked pleased with her plan coming together. 

Bellamy had to admit it seemed to be coming together nicely. He looked over to the professor. “What do you think?” 

“I think your plan is workable. As you know, I can’t participate openly in the rebellion. They’d know my magical signature. All auror and former auror signatures are keyed into their equipment to prevent aurors working against the government. Still, I think with a little bit of luck you brats can manage this on your own.” 

“We can do this.” Thalia said, her eyes sharp. “If we never start taking action, we can’t find our weaknesses and address them before our opponents can.” 

Bellamy felt a shiver go down his spine. He was eternally grateful he wasn’t working against Slytherin house any longer. Everyday working with the likes of Clarke, Thalia, and Fox was a lesson in the fact he’d dodged a spell not being aggravating enough for one of the proper Slytherin’s to retaliate. Though, he supposed in a way he had been the victim of Slytherin plotting. He’d just been recruited into a rebellion against the government instead of murdered. “Right, I’m willing to authorize this for tomorrow morning. You’ll need to be back in time for class.” 

Thalia gave a nod of acknowledgement. “If we leave at 5:30 a.m., we can manage it. 5:35 a.m. we apparate into the marked location. 5:38 a.m. we apparate out. 5:42 a.m. at the latest we should arrive at the safe house. That allows time for us to apparate a few times and cast a couple high powered spells between each apparition to confuse the trail. From there we can floo back to our safe house in Hogsmeade and sneak back in through the secret tunnels. That’ll give time to change and to head down to the great hall for breakfast.” 

“What if something goes wrong?” Professor Miller asked. “Every good plan needs a contingency plan.” 

“Fox will stage a potion ‘accident’ in one of the empty rooms in the dungeon. Until we can return to Hogwarts Jackson will claim we’re embarrassed by the results of the potion splatter and not accepting visitors.” Thalia replied promptly. “If the safe house is compromised, we disappear into the muggle world till we’re sure we’ve lost any pursuers.” 

Octavia spoke up before anyone else could point out the obvious flaw. “Bryan and Monroe can navigate the muggle world just fine. The team will split into two if it goes wrong so there is one member who is capable of muggle transportation and disguise.” 

Bellamy breathed in and looked around the table seeing that everyone was on board with the plan. “Alright then. I want a meeting with all of the seventh-year strike team members tomorrow night after tutoring so we can review what went right and wrong with the morning’s operation.” 

Professor Miller gave him a look of approval before standing. “Well then, I have some lesson plans, but I think this is a good plan.” 

____________________________________________________________________________

He woke up to a burning sensation on his wrist. Sitting up abruptly he grabbed at his JEM. Blinking he rubbed at his eyes hard before flipping it to see the message that had come through. His blood ran cold as he read the short message on his JEM that was synced with those in leadership. ‘SOS Medic Needed. SH.’ 

Tumbling out from his bed, he ripped the curtains out of his way as he dove for his trunk, making sure he had a good grip on his wand. It wouldn’t do to leave that behind. Hauling a shirt on, he started stuffing his right shoe on an uncooperative foot. Hopping on his right foot, he forced his left shoe on as he made for the exit of the room. 

He ignored the bleary and surprised looks on the faces of some of the other boys in his dorm. Nothing mattered but getting to the safe house. Throwing the portrait open, he didn’t bother with the loud complaints of the fat lady, just running at full tilt through the halls and down the stairs. Before he had made it very far, another message came through the JEM. ‘Stay put. BB and CG to SH.’ Clarke must have sent a message through as a response. It was just like her to think of calling off the other leaders so there wouldn’t be too many people rushing through the halls. 

As he came pounding out through the main doors, he realized he was just behind Clarke who was also sprinting full tilt for the secret passage to Honey Dukes that got outside the wards. 

He overtook her a hundred feet from the entrance to the tunnel and they both entered it together. Over the rushing of blood in his ears, the pounding of his heart, he could hear her gasps for breath as they climbed through. Running as fast as he could he left Clarke behind as he felt for the tingling sensation that would signal coming to the end of the ward around Hogwarts. Finally, he felt it. He didn’t even wait for a whole second to throw himself into an apparition. 

His body twisted and turned into the funneling wrongness of the act before he popped into existence at the edge of the wards to the safe house. Charging straight for the house, he hurtled through the old door even as he heard the pop of Clarke apparating behind him. 

The scene inside was enough to bring him up short. “What’s wrong?” He demanded as he glanced around the room trying to take in everything. There was blood on the floor, and oh, that was a leg. Nausea rolled in his stomach. 

Thalia looked up from where she was keeping pressure on an unconscious Bryan’s knee… or where his lower leg should have been. “He splinched himself, we need a healer. Did you bring anyone?” 

He rotated grabbing the door and making sure it was open as Clarke came skidding into the room. Her breaths were labored and her hair a wild mane about her. Her eyes were sharp as they darted around the room. Still, breathless she started giving orders after shoving a bag of potions into his arms. “Bellamy get out a blood replenisher and a pain reliever and essence of dittany. Thalia, how long has he been splinched?” 

“Ten minutes. Monroe stunned him while Jones retrieved the leg and burned any ground where his blood hit the dirt.” Thalia replied sharply as Clarke dropped down, her wand waving as she muttered the spells under her breath. 

Bellamy dug through the case of potions finding the ones needed and handing them over to Thalia who was clearly going to be assisting Clarke. Clarke didn’t even look up from where she was working as she gave him another order. “Bellamy get a report from Monroe and Jones. If cleanup is needed, handle it.” 

“Got it.” He turned to the pale faced students and beckoned them to the other side of the room. “What happened?” 

Monroe, her freckles standing out starkly against her skin reported. “Everything went according to schedule. We wore muggle ski masks and goggles as agreed on in the planning stages. There wasn’t anyone in the alley when we arrived. We got the paint up and charmed quickly. Thalia and I had to stun someone who came into the alley at just the wrong time. The boys finished up with the paint and apparated out of there. Thalia and I revived the civilian before quickly apparating away. We were gone before he even managed to start standing up. After that, we performed a few spells to muddy up the magic left behind before apparating again. We did this a few times. It was on our third apparition that things went wrong. Bryan was the last one to apparate to our location and Jones had already started some of the spells meant to muddy the trail before he arrived. I’m not sure if that had anything to do with it, but when Bryan popped to the third apparition point he fell down screaming. He was splinched. He was in a lot of pain and was thrashing around and making things worse so I stunned him. Thalia is the best of us at side along apparition so she apparated with Bryan to the safe house while Jones and I cleaned up the mess left behind. I took the leg back to the safe house and Jones cast a fire spell to burn away the evidence left behind before following.”

“You weren’t followed?” He asked, if they’d been followed they needed to be moving, now. 

Jones shook his head. “No, at least there were no signs of being followed as of when I left the alley.” 

Monroe swayed on her feet. “It’s too many apparitions in a row. Especially since we’re doing other magic and we’re not experienced using apparition. Even with training a tiny break in concentration and…” She gave a grimace, her eyes straying to where Clarke was leaning over Bryan. 

Swallowing, Bellamy forced himself to breath and think. “Right. Are either of you up for flooing to the infirmary?” 

“I can do it.” Jones said, though he was starting to look a little green. 

Bellamy’s brow furrowed, but he knew they didn’t have much choice. “You remember the passphrase Clarke told us to gain access to the Hogwarts floos right?” Seeing Jones nod, he continued. “Good. Go, once you’re there wake Jackson if he’s not up already. Have him prepare for Bryan. Then, I want you to summon Miller to the infirmary, try not to scare him. Once he acknowledges the message, use the JEMS to let everyone know that the SOS is handled.” 

Turning his attention to Monroe he continued. “Monroe, I need you to floo back as well. You’re going to go to Raven. She’s the most senior person in the rebellion with Clarke and I here. Once you’ve updated her, message Fox and make sure she knows to stage the distraction, but change the identities of who got caught up in it to Bryan as well as myself and Clarke.” 

“Bellamy.” Clarke looked up from where she was wiping the sweat from her brow, the leg was attached, though Bryan did not look good. “Don’t include us. We can’t have that many people caught in something like that. Too risky. There’s enough time for both of us to get cleaned up and get to class.” 

He grit his teeth but acknowledged her. “Fine, we all meet in the Room of Requirement after the tutoring session to go over what happened, and I want all of the leadership there. Rebellion training can be cancelled for the night. We can update everyone on what happened during training tomorrow.” 

Clarke gave him a silent nod of agreement as she went back to pouring potions down Bryan’s throat. Bellamy breathed out as he saw Monroe and James heading for the fire. Merlin this was a mess. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Bellamy pointed his wand at the blackboard behind him and turned back to his captive students. Tutoring history was usually great. Today though, it was agonizing to wait for it to be over. A jittery energy suffused his being. He was barely able to stop himself from vibrating through his lesson. Still, the little chubby tweens made him remember a younger Octavia and he was going to do right by them. “Today we’ll be talking about the Squib Rights Protests of the civil rights era.” 

Looking around, he made sure everyone was taking notes before he started lecturing. “For those of you not familiar with muggle history, the early 1900’s till the 1970’s more specifically the 1950’s and 60’s was a time of massive social change in the western world. Inspired by the work being done in the muggle world, Squibs began to demand equal treatment from their more magical brethren. This series of protests was shaped by a question we are still asking ourselves to this day. Is membership in our society given by our blood, our magic, or both.” 

“I’m not going to tell you what the answer is. The answer to that question is something that you will have to decide for yourself. What’s important to remember is that the Squibs believed that because they had magical blood in their veins they should be acknowledged as a part of our world and given equal rights as wizards and witches. The events of these protests are rarely talked about but have shaped our modern society. Just this summer, new laws restricting muggleborns were passed. These laws deal with the opposite side of the debate. ‘Does the magic of muggleborns make them equal members of our world or does their lack of a magical heritage make them lesser?’ To understand what is happening now, we need to understand what happened when this question of blood, magic, or both was raised in the past.” 

____________________________________________________________________________

Bellamy had his arms crossed as he leaned against a wall in the Room of Requirement as everyone digested the events of that morning. He was unsurprised when Clarke was the one to lead the discussion. “Thalia, do you agree with Monroe’s assertion that five apparitions are too many for a functional strike team?” 

“Yes.” Thalia replied from where she was sitting beside Bryan and Miller. 

Raven spoke up. “Look, I can’t just magically make you something to hide your residue. Others have tried. It’s just not going to happen. I can help build better masks for the strike teams so you all don’t look like moronic burglars wearing ski masks, but… I’m not a god, just a witch.” 

“Would it be safe to use less apparitions? Maybe just using some magic in between will be enough,” Harper asked. 

Monty shook his head. “We can’t be sure that would work and it’s too important we don’t leave a trail they can follow to risk it. If they track us to Hogwarts we’re done for. No, we need to come up with something to hide our trail that even people inexperienced with apparition like us can do.” 

“So, we need to come up with magic that even someone inexperienced can use that will be able to fool people who track people for a living? Yeah, that sounds doable.” Roma said with an eyeroll and blatant sarcasm. 

Bellamy chewed his lip. “Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way. We’re not going to out magic the aurors. They deal with magical criminals all the time. People who are older and more experienced than us. We need to come at this in a way that the aurors aren’t expecting.” 

“What about the train?” Harper looked around the room. 

Monty’s face scrunched up in confusion. “You mean the Hogwarts express?” 

“No.” She straightened up seeming to gain excitement with her idea. “The muggle train. When muggles want to evade capture they use public transportation like the trains. Most magicals don’t even know to use the rail system. We’d just have to wear muggle clothes underneath our robes and take them and our masks off between apparitions. So, we look muggle enough to blend in with the crowds using the train. Maybe some wigs or something? Nothing that would leave a magical trail. Take the train a few stops, get out and apparate to the safe house.” 

Raven’s eyes were bright and intelligent. “That would work! No one would expect that. You could do it in three apparitions too. One, switch clothing, two go to the underground, three from train stop to the safe house. Hell, it wouldn’t even have to be the train. Using any muggle transportation method even a bus or a taxi to interrupt the apparition trail would be practically impossible to track.” 

“We still need to drill the strike teams on apparition this weekend when we can have Jackson oversee the training.” Thalia pointed out sensibly. 

Jackson spoke up from where he was sitting, just outside the circle. “I can do that, we’d have to go just outside Hogsmeade to escape the wards.” 

Bellamy smiled proudly at his friends and comrades. “Good, Jackson discuss particulars with Thalia after the meeting. Try and set up a system we can run everyone in the rebellion through. Thalia, I want a proposal for another strike after you're satisfied with your team’s apparition abilities and ability to blend in while using muggle transportation. Now Miller, how are we coming on the sheets?”


End file.
